Opaque Tides
by focusedOnProsperity
Summary: Michonne is ready to relax in the Safe Zone, but she knows better. How will she and her group deal in a comfortable place, where walkers wait outside and humans scheme & plot? Some Richonne/Caryl.
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: The thought of this fanfic sprung up from reading and watching potential spoilers about the upcoming Season 5B of The Walking Dead (a franchise which I own no part of). As a down and dirty Michonne fan, I'm concerned that she might be put in the background (again). As a poor and crazed Richonne fan, I'm saddened with the thoughts that she will be pushed aside for "Samantha" and eventually Sasha (yes, many predict that she is the new Andrea). In hindsight, she has had much growth in the series…but I want to see more (do I sound a bit spoiled?)! So, what better way to deal with this anxiety than to give the Samurai her DUE, just in case any of this happens?_**

_(Side note; Richonne is one of the few ships I've jumped aboard. The first had to be Storm and Wolverine in the X-men. They didn't really get together until his death…so yea, there's hope lol)_

_**This takes place in Alexandria, when our lady heroine notices some dynamics have changed…**_

**Chapter 1: Non-complication**

Her dark hands re-twisted her locs. The process was something she never changed on a daily basis, but this morning was the best grooming she had in years. Washing her hair in a hot shower made her feel like a human once again. Yessssssss, there was nothing to compare to feeling like a woman for even a split second. Michonne knew that this place could be a lion's den, or that outside of the walls could be a mass herd of walkers. Her mind did periodically do the math about the world's populace; by now she was sure that cities, counties, or even states of the dead could be moving around in unison. She shuddered at the thought. Then again, death would come one day. Then again, she was alive now – so she couldn't think of what she could not control.

Her dark reflection stared back at her from the tall mirror, wearing a constable's uniform. She laughed to herself. There weren't many clothing options, but the stiff get-up was not truly her style. _Oh well_, she thought.

! ## ?

Carl gave her a strong hug after opening the door. "Michonne!"

She had to chuckle. Any joy from him was wonderful. She knew his heart teetered tottered on the edge of coldness; his few childhood expressions brought hope. "Well Carl, I'm happy to see you too!"

She walked in to see a visitor's concern by Rick.

"Umm, uhhh," stumbled the blonde woman.

The two partners knowingly glanced at each other.

Michonne smirked, "I didn't mean to interrupt anything, but our shift is about to begin."

"Right, right," Rick replied. "Don't worry, you didn't interrupt." He nervously rubbed his head as the blonde scurried off with a boy around Carl's age and not saying much.

"She's not the babysitter?" Michonne asked.

"N-no," Rick pinched his nose. "Carol volunteered."

&amp;*&amp;*((

Their patrol was quiet, which was nothing new. Communication could magically be so unspoken. Rick spotted a suspicious drifter. Michonne walked up to the person and questioned them. Michonne led the way or vice versa. They spotted each other and were each other's minds. Yet, today, not everything was the same between the two blood warriors.

"Are you happy?"

"Excuse me?" he thought he should know if and why he would or wouldn't be.

"Oh, Rick."

Once her knowing look darted at his face, his eyes shifted. "I just met her. She's married. I shouldn't even consider it, but her husband is abusing her and her son." His blue eyes stared back, pleading for some understanding.

She sighed. "You never told me the details of your marriage." She was already looking away when he stared at her. "I can still recognize that her death wasn't the only trouble you two had. I had issues too with Mike before he passed."

"_Mike_?" Rick leaned in closer. It was about time she revealed some more.

"Yes, Mike. I say this because you know that adding more complications to a situation filled with problems only makes it worse."

"So," he paused before he could form his lips to process the following words. "Who cheated, you or Mike?"

She scoffed, somewhat amused by this. "Neither. If he did, I never knew."

"Oh! Then how-"

She laughed. "People talk."

Rick pinched his nose. He shouldn't have been surprised – the Governor, of all people, knew that Judith was possibly not his child. He grimaced at the thought, but was relieved by one of the beautiful smiles that he was lucky to see (not too many people saw it, and Rick knew he was amongst the chosen few).

"So, did you have fun last night Mr. Grimes?" She didn't know that he adored how she batted her eyes.

Rick's mind flashed back to threatening the blonde's husband. The man scurried off, but Samantha (that was her name) returned with a lust-filled favor. The right corner of his mouth curved at the thought of relieving himself after so long. He still knew there would be consequences from this. Rick shrugged, "it was quiet."

_Bullshit_. Michonne didn't care much if he had some pleasure that night, but she was frustrated that he thought he needed to lie to her of all people. Their steps became lined with a quiet air.

"What about you," he inquired.

"It was quiet too." Honestly, she enjoyed the gracious hosts at a house party, the gorgeous gown she flowed in, and delicious food. Her thoughts were dismayed at having to practice wearing heels again, stupid gossip, and how people pretended that the gruesome outside world was a sci-fi tale. Rick nodded his head, knowing that she lied to him as well.

"How is it with your roommates?"

"_Roommates_?"

"Yes," he smiled.

"Same as it ever was. Daryl, Carol, and Sasha are easy to live with. Once upon a time I would have wanted my own space. Now, I love to be surrounded by those I trust. It must be great to have a home for you and the kids."

"Yes, it is. You know, Carl said he'll miss being around you as much."

"Oh, come on now. He should know he can visit whenever, and I'll always come to check on him."

"I know we're all family, but you are family. We _trust_ you, too." Rick's eyes pierced at her smooth skin, then looked into her eyes.

Michonne blinked. "I don't like complications."

Their steps led them closer to Abraham and Eugene's construction site. "What do you mean by that? Nothing is complicated between us."

"Enjoy this time you have with your children. I always respected how your children are your main focus, then the rest of the group. We'll always be close, but I don't know what will happen to the rest of us in a place like this. I'm just open to new experiences. But I," she stopped to place her hand on his shoulder, "want you to live for a bit. We know everywhere we go isn't safe. Sometimes you have to smell the roses."

Rick could always read Michonne (well, once he opened up to trusting her). At that moment he wasn't quite sure what had happened. Did she just reject him? Then again, he wasn't even sure what pushed him to ask her to move in. He felt a slightly familiar let-down in his heart…something similar to being heart-broken.

*&amp;^%%##$

The bar did not serve the real deal. The path to happiness there was not laced with Vodka, Hennessey, Alize, Mai Tai's, Martini's, or anything remotely close. Customers were limited to a few shots of wine coolers… Cranberry cocktail was the best seller.

Girl's Night was not somber from sobriety. Tara found a nice face with shoulder length curly hair to snuggle up with. Rosita was the life of the party. Maggie convinced Sasha to dance with her. They both had losses, but were glad to have loved ones in a _safe_ environment. Carol and Michonne smiled at the ambiance.

"Isn't this something," wondered Carol.

"What part of _this_ do you mean?"

"Hmmm, everything. I want to celebrate, but I'll feel incredibly guilty if I do."

Michonne frowned. "That, and unprepared. Funny, I just told Rick to smell the roses, and I'm sitting here itching to go on patrol."

Carol's mind reflected on the lost lessons she taught Lizzie and Mika. "The moment you get comfortable is when things happen…and they took our weapons!"

Michonne downed her cranberry cocktail. "Let's go."

The two women stalked out the armory. There were two guards who walked in a pattern in front of the entrance. Michonne waited for Carol to tell her "when". Once the signal was given and one guard was exposed, Michonne put her in a sleeper hold while Carol hit the other one over his head with rock. _Hope he'll be okay_, she thought. They ran inside, to see Glenn dangling from a wire.

"Uh, hey guys," he loudly whispered.

They helped him down. "What are you doing here," asked Carol.

They all grabbed the weapons that they knew so well. "Rick and I set up a plan to do what you're doing right now."

"Okay, well let's go before something happens!" ordered Michonne.

&amp;^%$#

It was interesting how her body could be so restful, but not her mind. Her katana was safely near her as she rested. However, it was such an evil thing. Her little bit of sleep was filled with visions of chopping down Mike and Terry, and then ultimately silencing Hershel. She had to work in the morning – this pestered her patience.

She walked into the living room to see Daryl peeking out the window.

"Can't sleep either, huh," he stated.

"Yes. Is this the new normal?"

"Maybe. I don't fit with these people. I'd rather be in the watch tower 24/7 than to go to another one of Douglas' meetings."

"It would be nice if they trained people here on how to deal with walkers."

"Humph," he sighed. "You and Carol are something else."

"Did you know about Rick's plan?"

"I wus the distraction."

Michonne chuckled and there was a knock at the door. A tired-looking Father Gabriel stood outside their apartment. "It's pretty late," she frowned.

"I know," he shook. "This is urgent."

She allowed him in while Daryl stared him down. He did not care that this man presided over Beth's funeral; his idiotic mistakes almost killed his nephew and close friend.

Gabriel slowly sat down. "There are some hoodlums in the street. They've been walking around with bats and demanded that everyone where I live give them their food." Gabriel lived with other spiritual advisors.

"With bats," Daryl asked.

"Yes. Some have guns."

Michonne and Daryl looked at each other with subdued shock.

&amp;^%$##

Rick looked occupied when he opened the door.

"We didn't catch you at a bad time, did we bro?" questioned Daryl.

"What's going on?" He stared at Michonne with some annoyance.

Michonne ignored it. "Gabriel stopped by to say there are people bullying others, demanding that they give up their food."

"On top o' that, they have weapons."

"Seriously?" Rick pinched his nose. "Wait one second." He went to his room, and his two friends could barely hear the whispers.

"Just look after the kids while I'm gone for a sec'?"

"Sure, not a problem," responded Samantha, all wrapped up in his sheets. "Is everything okay?"

"We'll see."

"I should have asked before, but there seems to between you and Michonne."

He paused from changing. "You're the one in my bed, not her." He kissed her forehead.

Meanwhile, Daryl's gaze shifted from Rick's bedroom door to a stoic and contemplative Michonne.

"Yes?"

"What's tha deal with you two?"

"What is there to ask," she turned her head in his direction.

He took his time to say, "It's surprising that you're not in there."

Michonne sighed. "I told him to smell the roses yesterday. He smelled them before I told him to do that. We never said we were a couple, so I'm not concerned. My life doesn't revolve around Rick's. Does yours revolve around Carol's?"

Daryl scratched his head. "I don't know how to answer that."

The former sheriff walked into his living room. "Where are we going?"

&amp;^%$%

The streetlights the lined this former small town never lit anymore. Douglass ordered it to only be used during emergencies. This further helped people obey curfew. The trio didn't care for that – their eyes had almost adapted to those of cats from their time in the woods. Perhaps the stragglers they observed had a similar evolution. A tall Samoan walked in front of the others, knocking on doors where quivering residents urgently handed goods without a word.

"That's gotta be them," whispered Michonne.

Daryl nodded in agreement. Rick focused more to see Pete, Samantha's husband, speaking the most to the rest of the outlaws.

"Sonnovabitch!" he mildly exclaimed.

"What," both of his comrades inquired.

"That one right there," he pointed to a white man close to his age with dirty blonde hair. "He must be the ringleader. He's also a doctor and pretty tight with Douglass."

Michonne's lips pressed tightly. "So, do we act now?"

There was silence. "I'll handle him, like a game of Chess," declared Rick.


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN:_**_ Thanks for the reviews! I seriously laughed out loud when I read them; reason being: I feel the same way too. I had to remind myself of why I would write Rick in such a way. It just seemed pretty out of character for him to just get romantically involved with someone else, when he had such a build-up with Michonne. I wondered,(__**SPOILER**__) if the writers of the show plan to bring someone else into Rick's life romantically, and quickly as some are saying, how could that realistically look (seriously, how realistic could it look when the viewers have been fed these two as co-parenting team…and the stares between these two…). That's part of my experiment with this. But at the end of the day, this fanfic is a Michonne show. Without further ado…_

**Chapter 2:**

Michonne had not been at ease since everything changed. Her level of paranoia was at a new level, conflicted with the pseudo safe environment and corruptness it cultured. She had seen similar types of structures before, but obeying the law was bullcrap nowadays. Shit…she and Rick _were_ the law. If he was thinking anything like her, that Pete guy would soon be dead.

She thought of this as her morning jog encircled the length of the safe zone. The sun was barely out, and only a few people were out for an early start to their day. There were some moans and scratches from the other side of the walls, but everything seemed _normal_ enough. Her steps came to a pause and she shook her limbs. While on her toes, she arched her back and pointed the tips of her fingers beyond her back. The energy flowed through as her spine curved. Muscles reawakened even more when she squatted with her fingers pointing forward, still maintaining her tip-toed stance. Eventually she lost track of how many yoga poses she was doing. Maybe, faux normalcy was okay.

A slight shift in the wind stirred the tiny hairs on her arm. Michonne instinctively left her warrior's stance to punch at her right, which was blocked.

"Whoa, whoa," yelled a male's deep voice. "I mean no harm. I just wanted to introduce myself – I never saw you around here before." He was a cocoa man with hazel eyes, taller than Michonne, and a skinny frame.

She did not relax. "How long were you watching me?"

"Watching? I wasn't watching. I just happened to be passing by."

"Who are you?"

"Jordan," his hand reached out, "nice to meet you."

Michonne's hands rested on the elastic band of her sweat pants. "Michonne, I'm a constable. What are you doing out so early," she scowled.

"Working out, just like you." She did an once-over to see that he donned gray sweats and sneakers.

She looked at her watch to see that it was 5:30 a.m. "Jordan, see you around." She pretended that she didn't hear him asking if he could jog along with her.

-00000-

No one was asleep at the apartment, naturally. No one fully rested in in the woods. Sasha was cooking some eggs, and Carol was sharpening a knife.

"_Scrambled eggs_, not scrambled squirrel I see?" joked Michonne as she grabbed a bottle of water.

Sasha chuckled as she fixed some plates. "I know! I forgot how these things taste like. I used to hate them, but now like filet mignon!"

"Oh, but what this has done to poor Daryl," remarked Carol. They all looked at each other and shared a laugh. "He'll be fine, but he went outside the walls to go catch some _real_ food."

Michonne shook her head. "It helped, but those squirrels had no meat on them. I'll eat some eggs while I have the chance."

"Alright then, so you two tell me if I still know how to cook some?" Sasha stood back and watched her two friends as they chewed. There was silence until the plates were free of any food. "Well?" Sasha was starting to get concerned.

Michonne swallowed. "It could have tasted like shit; I wouldn't be able to tell."

Carol agreed, "Everything tastes like squirrel to me nowadays!"

"Oh, can y'all just say if it's good or bad?!"

"It's good, it's good," replied Michonne. "How are you liking the fire station?"

"It seems pretty good, but some people still have that outdated mentality that women can't be firefighters. Dumbasses. We've been fighting walkers, but for some reason we can't save lives," Sasha frustratingly crossed her arms. "At least you two have jobs where you're respected."

"True," agreed Carol. She hid her thoughts away of how she really didn't want to be involved with children activity, but nonetheless accepted being a teacher.

Michonne said nothing. For the first time, she wished she could fight alongside with someone else other than Rick.

-000000-

The police station was located on the first floor of a small building. Above it was the main part of the hospital/clinic, with the ER next to the station. Alexandria was not a huge town; it was practically a small neighborhood.

Michonne sat at her desk, contemplating the previous night's events. That Pete character could be working upstairs as she sat there playing detective. Why in the world would a doctor, a practicing doctor, think it would be okay to harass and bully residents? Wouldn't that make patient-care awkward? Something didn't make sense about this. She was tempted to go up there right now and handle this. She tapped her ankle and waste to make sure her small knives were hidden before she got up from the desk.

"Chonne?"

She looked up to see Rick standing over her desk. "Oh, good morning Rick."

"Yea, good morning. Carl and Judith thought you were gonna drop by earlier." His face expressed concern.

She sighed. Before words could escape out of her mouth, she stared at his eyes that avoided her gaze. She was so close to committing herself to that unity they all once had. "How about you tell Carl to bring Judith to my place tonight? Everyone in the house would love to see them."

His eyebrows raised. "Oh, okay. The kids do miss you." He smiled at a thought, "Judith was saying your name when I got back last night."

"What woke her up?"

"She wanted some milk." His finger traced the desk. "Are we okay?"

_No._ "Why would you ask?"

"It seems like we don't talk like we used to."

Michonne shrugged her shoulders. "We're in a different environment. People can change when they don't have to fight for their lives every day."

"We didn't have to fight for our lives every day at the prison. I did wish that I saw more of you back then." There was an odd silence between them as Rick's fingers tapped the desk.

"What do you want Rick? It's the beginning of our shift…"

"We need to have a serious talk. Maybe not now, but soon. When we were out there, we were all family," Rick explained. "No matter what, I don't want that to change."

Michonne intensely glared at him. "Let's talk about this Pete person. How do you plan to play 'chess' against him?"

Rick took a deep breath. "That woman Samantha that you've seen me with? Well, they're married." He waited for a response. "I'll get information from her. We just got here, so we can't just arrest someone who has ties with Douglass. We have to figure out an effective way to solve this."

Michonne slowly unwrapped a Big Kat and started to munch on it. "So," chump chump. "You mean to tell me," chump chump. "That you're screwing with our suspect's wife?" Rick grimaced. "Better yet, I'm just gonna go up there and handle this."

Once she got up, Rick grabbed her arm. She swiped it off. "This is not the Rick I know. I don't know what the fuck is up with you, but we won't be able to work together too well if this keeps up!" She stormed off with him following behind.

When she opened the door to the shared hallway of the ER and precinct, a slightly familiar face beamed.

"Michonne? Funny bumping into you here."

"Jerome?" she inquired.

"No, Jordan. From the jog earlier."

"Right," she nonchalantly reacted.

Rick probed, "you went jogging earlier?"

"I always have a morning run…you know this," Michonne groaned.

"Well, are you gonna introduce me to your jogging buddy?" Rick inquired.

Michonne quickly said, "Jordan, Rick. Rick, Jordan." She suddenly noticed Jordan's white lab coat. "Jordan, do you work here?"

"Yes, I'm an ER physician."

"Do you know Dr. Pete Baker?" questioned Rick.

Jordan bit his lip. "I know of him. He works upstairs, so I don't deal with him too often. If you could excuse me, I have some patients to see. Nice seeing you again Michonne."

Michonne watched him walk off, ignoring whatever Rick mumbled. "He might or might not be some help. I'm still gonna go interview Pete."


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN: Thanks for the reviews y'all! My schedule is getting busier (I should start interning soon, so oh boy!), but I'll continue to pump out updates as much as possible. In the upcoming chapters, I'll try to redeem Rick…_****try****_. This version seems so out of character for me, but it started off as an experiment. Maybe in an upcoming chapter, we'll do a flashback to see why he just didn't go off into the sunset with Michonne? Until then…_**

**Chapter 3: I Get's No Satisfaction**

Michonne took another sip of Carol's herbal tea. It was a blessing that they could even find some, but then again, teabags weren't a primary item for scavenging for most survivors. She rubbed her temples as she thought that perhaps she and Carol could have gotten along before the Turn. Drinking chamomile tea when stressed…that was a remedy she lived by.

"No, that just does not seem like him," Carol observed. "He just stopped you?"

Michonne slowly nodded.

Carol shook her head. "Why did you let him?"

"I always just follow his lead, without question. You know Rick, he's a good leader. I don't want to think he's not thinking right, and he has the experience as a cop, but he's not right. It puts me off-balance to not know what he's planning to do, but we have to do something."

Sasha's back leaned against a kitchen counter. She had been mainly quiet since Michonne opened about the recent events. It was never her business, but since she lost Bob she slightly wondered when Rick and Michonne would admit who they were to each other. Time was short, she definitely knew that. This situation had to have happened for a reason, but forget the drama. Action needed to happen.

"Fuck this, let's find Pete," she announced.

Michonne and Carol stared at each other for a moment. Michonne agreed, "Let's go!" They initially reached for their trademark weapons, but reconsidered going with knives.

-00000-

The sun was not ready to rest yet. The women stood inside a trading post, across the street from what records said was Pete's residence. The stakeout had been uneventful thus far. It started with Samantha standing outside and smoking a cigarette. Later, she was highly involved in gossip with a neighbor. Her son came out, she hugged him, and watched him as he played. Michonne thought to herself of how much Carl missed out on. ..

"Shit!"

"What's wrong," Carol asked.

"I told Rick that Carl and Judith could come visit us tonight. But here we are. .."

Sasha touched Michonne's shoulder. "The safety of others might take precedence. Besides, Daryl might be there."

Michonne sighed, "True."

Sasha stared at her friend for a moment as she looked out the dusty window. She really wanted to say more but knew it was too touchy of a subject.

"Ahem, ladies," a man approached them, "you've been standing here for quite a while. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"We're just window shopping," Carol replied.

"But all of the food is over th-"

"This is the business of the constable," Michonne flashed her badge. "Step away."

The man was confused. "I've never met..."

"Is that him," Sasha asked, pointing to a blonde man in scrubs. He kissed Samantha on the cheek, at which she winced.

"Yes," Michonne seethed as the store worker continued with questioning her authority.

The former prison group approached the spouses, who seemed warped in their own issues.

"We were headed for divorce anyway! It's none of your damn business," Samantha angrily glared at Pete.

"None of my business? Where my wife is at night? None of my business that you're a whore?!"

With arms crossed, she retorted, "and where are you every night?"

"Yes Pete, where are you every night?" The couple was shocked to be interrupted. Samantha was even more, wondering why Michonne would care. "Pete, I'm one of the new constables, Michonne. I'd like to ask you a few questions - if you could come along to the station."

Samantha breathed a sigh of relief.

"A woman? A woman 'constable'?'" He let out a guttural laugh. "You can only use handcuffs on me in the bed...bitch." His mouth was frozen with his lower lip down to emphasize the last word that escaped his mouth. He then diverted his attention to his wife. "That's all women use to get their way, anyway."

Michonne, Carol, and Sasha clutched their knives and looked at one another. Without words, they were telling each other to calm down before killing this man.

Samantha rubbed beads of sweat from her forehead. Rick told her about his "family", how they lived through and got rid of threats. All of these women were rough, but she was most concerned about that Michonne - the one who solely took out a dictator's eye and ultimately killed him. The one that limped through the woods with a bullet in her leg for miles and formula for Judith. The one that saved his life on several occasions and found him and Carl. The one that, my God was she tired of hearing about Michonne.

"Pete," she pleaded, "can you please just go with them? The faster you get this over with, the fastest you'll get home and get some rest."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, only to be smacked with the back side of his hand. "Like I want to be lying next to STDs..."

Before he could finish, Michonne jabbed his eye, kneed his crouch, and tripped him. He didn't know what happened by the time the handcuffs were placed on him.

"What the fuck, you can't do that?!" He yelled out in pain.

"I'm the law, bitch," answered Michonne.

Samantha gasped, noticing her son had witnessed the scene. "Oh my God!"

"You should thank her," Carol told her as she helped Michonne lift the suspect.

Sasha icily glared at the blonde. "Is there something you have to say?" Samantha frantically asked.

"If you want to see your husband, come to the station," Michonne answered before Sasha could reply.

-00000-

"Maybe being a teacher wasn't the best role for me," joked Carol. "That whole thing just seemed so natural."

"Tell me about it," agreed Sasha. "I think we were so busy being our own police out there that it just flows here."

Michonne happily took it all in while sitting on her desk. "So true ladies, but I better finish this night the right way. I appreciate you two coming with me. No matter what happens, I know we'll always have each other's backs." The women joined in a group hug. "Okay, I'll see you guys at home. I have to do an 'interview' with my guest."

"Are you sure you won't need us for that?" Carol asked.

"No, I got this."

After her friends left, she rubbed her right hand. Pete definitely had a hard head. She rolled her head and swung her arms, readying herself to get ready to get some answers from this man. She had been called a bitch before. That actually didn't faze her. It was something else about this whole situation that made her look forward to brutally getting him to admit to being a domestic terrorist of sorts. The door opened, and she recalled a bit more of why she was so angry.

"Michonne, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" It was Rick, looking as angered as the first time they met.


	4. Chapter 4

**_AN: _**_Your reviews give me life! Maybe these chicas should be called the "Walking Angels"? "Michonne's Angels" (hey, Rick needs to earn them being called "Rick's Angels"…let's go with "Daryl" or "Glenn's Angels" then). My mind is twisting and turning on how to get Maggie, Rosita, and Tara in the mix. Who needs men, right? Wait, on second thought, this chapter shows a lot more men. Ah, testosterone…_

**Chapter 4: Communication is the Key, M'Dear**

If her eyes could kill, he would have been dead long ago. Her anger was so intense that her mouth could not form words. There was a disconnect between her brain and language. Yet, something in her told her to not react with pure instinct. If she did, there would probably be no coming back.

"Michonne, you never stopped following my lead. I told you I'd handle it, but you didn't listen. What the hell! I'm supposed to count on you, of all people!"

"Of all people," she retorted. "You didn't tell me what you were gonna do. You usually did! Who the hell are you, Rick? I can't read you like I used to, but it doesn't matter anymore. I'm here to get the job done. I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but we saw this man terrorizing people. The Rick I know would have handled this!"

He pinched his nose, paced the room in circles, and finally closed the space between him and his partner. "Why didn't you trust me?" He yelled in her face, but once he saw that her emotions weren't backing down, he lowered his voice. "He's involved with Douglas...We're new here and can't stir up too much too fast."

Michonne sighed. She needed a deep breath to say this to a man she greatly respected. "If that's so, you should have thought twice before screwing the man's wife."

He grimaced. For some reason, hearing that coming from Michonne hurt more than when Daryl said it to him earlier. "I, I didn't plan for that to happen."

"But it has, and it makes the situation worse, doesn't it?" She rolled her eyes and maneuvered out of the tiny space he cornered into. She didn't expect him grabbing her arm.

"Carl came looking for you."

She snatched her arm back. "I'll catch up with him. What do you want from me? "

His eyes wondered up to the ceiling. "You remember when we were out there, when Aaron found us?" She gazed at him. "And I didn't believe him, but you did? Before that, I always knew that no matter what, you'd be there, by my side. That my kids would have you if they didn't have me. But you, you were ready to leave us if I didn't go."

She sucked her teeth, while folding her arms. "But you're here now. It was the right decision for everyone."

He clinched his fist at her arrogance. "Well, you said you were done taking breaks, but decided to live in another unit. What was that about?"

"Seriously Rick, if you wanted me, why didn't you just say it?"

"Why haven't you?" They breathed heavily; each round of inhaling and exhaling matched the other. Their warrior tendencies and stubbornness were twins.

"Don't put you sleeping with her on me. Don't pretend that what Carol, Sasha, and I did wasn't the right thing. We've taken down worse people than Pete and Douglas. I'm not falling for this bullshit. And if you wanted me, you should have-"

He interrupted her with his lips pressed on hers. She fought it, but she had waited so long for this. She waited for the needs of safety and food to be met just a little bit to show him how much she loved him. All of those missed chances. .. Her hands couldn't help but grab at the curls on his head, as he ferociously caressed her back. His tongue invaded her mouth. The moans could not be controlled. Neither could her tears when he let out, "I love you. I need you. "

She waited for this place of temporary peace, and he didn't. "Fuck you," she pushed him off. "I'm not seconds!"

The hurt was tangible from Rick. He stayed in the same pose she pushed him in, trying to recollect himself from exposing himself and the instant pain that followed. "No, we can start over."

"Do what you want. I don't care - I have an interrogation to do. What could have been, what we were to each other, it's gone now. It's not just because you couldn't wait for me. No, it's because we have to clean this up now also. I," tears streamed down her face. "I became human again because of you, because of Carl, Judith. So thank you for that."

"Michonne..."

"No," she fought off his pleas.

"I was vulnerable. She just came around when I just wanted you. I waited for you, but you kept closing me off. But she didn't wait. But I need you. .."

Michonne couldn't hear anymore and walked out while he continued to attempt to make his case. She could hear furniture flipping over from the other side of the door after she closed it. The irony - she was actually pained to see him in this distraught state.

"Trouble in paradise?"

She was so lost in her thoughts, she had no clue he was standing there. Michonne quickly wiped the tears. "Don't you have patients to see, Jerome?"

He stiffened. "Jordan...my name's Jordan. Are you okay Michonne?"

"I'm fine. You have a good night. I have things to do."

"What, like something with Pete?"

Michonne looked at him inquisitively. "What?"

"It's about time someone..." Jordan's light eyes glanced over to her right, where a heavily breathing Rick had just positioned himself.

Rick cocked his head to the left. "It's about time someone does what?" asked his thick, sultry voice.

The ER physician was unmoved. He was not blind either. Anyone with a pulse could tell that these two had some tension between each other. It was also obvious that Rick was a dangerous man. That didn't matter to him much. The woman who compelled his thoughts since he saw her strong thighs cause her ass bounce as her locs flopped in the wind was clearly single, and was clearly not happy by whatever her partner was doing. Jordan never backed down easily in life.

"It's about time someone enforces some justice around here." Jordan's gaze never left Michonne. Father Gabriel may have had a schoolboy crush, but for quite a while, it was only Rick's eyes that stripped her naked. Jordan was now competing, and her stomach and crotch didn't know how to react. She opened her mouth to respond.

"Well, that's what we're her for," responded the former sheriff's deputy as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

She brushed it off. "What has he done that needs to be handled?"

Jordan shrugged. "Besides beat his wife and his son? And I don't mean spanking, I mean _beat_. He has forced other people to give their belongings to him and his little punk gang. A grown man…with a gang…" Michonne turned to give Rick a nod to confirm what they already witnessed. He only looked at her with a grimace. "I really can't say too much out here in this space, but," still eyeing Michonne, "I'd rather discuss this in private."

She couldn't help the instinctive smirk. Once it left her face, she felt slight guilt. There she was, happily and openly bathing in the flirtations of another in front of her true love. "Ahem, um, okay. I guess you can stop in our office when we're not busy. Thanks for the info, Jordan." She nodded at him as she headed to the lockup.

Rick gave him the look he once gave a man named Gareth months ago after telling him he made him a promise.

-00000000-

Pete never liked going to the hospital for emergencies. It would make his days a continuous circle. Who wants to leave work just to return back to it, even if it was a dire situation? Samantha, the foolish woman that she was, would try to go to the ER out of town. That never saved her. Even in this post-apocalyptic world, she could not escape his reach. He was not even attracted to her as he once was. She was still gorgeous to others, but that was not why he kept her. He kept her because he could. He devoured the power she gave him on a daily basis. He was the upstanding and rare physician. She was the weak wife with no other choice. Still, something in him felt like she had something to do with the three _bitches_ who attacked him, and why he was so close to work after his shift already ended.

Wait until Douglas found out ~ there would be hell to pay. He tried to wriggle his hands free when the door opened.


	5. Chapter 5

**_AN: Warnings: Domestic violence, profanity, some hints of abduction and racism._**

**_So many reviews – thank you all very much!_**

**_Paisley2_** _I'm planning to get Daryl more involved in the storyline somehow. He does seem like he should be Rick's other part of conscious. Is Jerome/Jordan a stalker? hmmmm_

**_mtnwknd_** _I _work_ with some physicians with God complexes…thank God not too many, but just a few. I can see why you're team Jordan until Rick gets his shit straight. Is there any way that Rick can redeem himself?_

**_Nay766_**_ If Jordan had a clue, do you think he would even try to squeeze himself in? I know I wouldn't. But we also don't know what type of person Jordan is._

**_mysterion0.o_**_ Thanks for the compliment, and I try to not feel for Rick either while writing this (but he's Rick…it's just hard not to). I hope Rick is starting to realize how much he hurt her._

**_Seerwood_** _She might have forgiven Rick in the past for nearly giving her to the Governor, but she understood why he thought of it. I don't think Michonne is the type to allow people to get away with bullcrap unless it's for a good reason…to be continued…_

**_literaturechick_** _You're absolutely right, Rick has a long way to go if he wants to get back into her good graces. No woman should be seconds. There can be some interruptions to his attempts – one of them named Jordan of course._

**_KK_**_ So much for Sunday just being a day of rest (I work many Sundays, so that sucks for me). This chapter looks more into why Rick didn't keep it in his pants. Yes, Jordan maybe should tread lightly._

**_Guest_** _Rick should "have cuffed Michonne when he could"? How will this chapter leave you feeling after the first few parts? Then again…yea, he should have would have could have!_

**_Sorry that I didn't get to all the reviews in the previous chapters, or in some of my updates for the other fanfics. It's been hectic, but I appreciate the interest in these works based on characters from a story called The Walking Dead that I do not own and receive no money from (but they sure as hell get it from me, as much as I love and fiend over this show). Without further ado…_**

**Chapter 5: Newton's Third Law of Motion**

_**The Past **_

The bald bearded man regarded the four in front of him. They looked rugged, but who hadn't who made it this far out there? "I'm sure if we all cooperate, things will move smoothly."

"But no weapons, huh? I guess we're just gonna walk around in our birthday suits, huh," complained Abraham.

Rick lifted his hand to calm him down. "We can respect your rules. We get it. But we do have strong women in our group who could have come to this meeting." Daryl and Glenn nodded in agreement.

Douglass couldn't help but to smirk. "Well, we already set things in motion. Let's just continue it. Now housing. How should we divide the group?"

-0000000-

A smile formed on Rick's face when he found Michonne cradling a sleeping Judith. The more he saw this matronly view of her, the more he couldn't get her out of his thoughts. What was the use of her being so intertwined in his life, if they couldn't take it a step further? He was falling.

"They ran out of ideas for Wolverine because they hyped him up too much. That's why they had to kill him off," she continued her conversation.

Carl frowned, "nah. I think they did that so people would buy all of those issues, only to bring him back. You know how the hype game is."

"Hmmmm, very wise young man."

Rick's face always illuminated at the sight of his friend's and son's interactions. They were so caught up in their own bubble that they didn't even notice that others noticed. There was an ongoing bet of if and when they'll finally decide to stop playing house.

"Carl, I need to speak with Michonne," interrupted Rick. "Why don't you go talk to Noah for a second? He might need some spiritual guidance because he has to live with Abraham for the time being."

Carl chuckled. "Poor guy. We're gonna continue this."

"Yes we will," Michonne responded.

Rick's smile continued as he got lost in hers. "Michonne, what do you think of this place?"

She was in the middle of burping Judith. "It seems safe, but you know, no place is safe. I'm waiting for the ball to drop. I don't like how Douglass thinks women can't speak for the group."

Rick laughed, seeing they thought the same thing. "Well, I convinced him to let you be my partner as constable."

"Belch," Judith finally let out.

"About time," Michonne continued to rub her back. "That seems almost perfect. I wouldn't want to be anyone else's partner." The stares they shared made her almost uncomfortable. She had to control herself. Falling in love could make her weak. "I already decided to move in with Carol, Daryl, and Sasha for now. I don't think Sasha is doing too well about Tyrese's and Bob's death as she puts on."

"Oh, if that's what you want?"

"Don't worry, I'll be around almost all the time for Carl and Judith. Remember, I said I'm done with taking breaks."

Rick just simply nodded. "I have to go, handle something." He left before she could ask if anything was wrong. It wasn't in his nature to force a woman to do something she didn't want to. "There's been a change of plans," he told Douglass. He was still a little pissed. "Michonne won't be staying with me. She'll stay with Daryl's group." Why did she want to run away?

-0000000-

Michonne didn't expect the invitation to the party, but decided to go since it was ages since she was actually able to. Before going there, she momentarily left her friends and stumbled to Rick's residence in her uncomfortable heels. He wasn't there and the lights were out. She figured he was probably smelling the roses as well. In the put of her stomach she felt some regret. It felt unnatural to exist without the presence of the Grimes. Bullshit. Her life couldn't just revolve around only some of her new family. There was also the guilt that stayed around because she was alive, yet Mike and Andre were...were... She stopped her thoughts and continued her stumble to the party.

Meanwhile, Rick was disheartened when he arrived her apartment.

"You just missed her," started Daryl. "She left wit the others, but if you saw her..." He contained himself, knowing his brother had deep feelings for her.

"We just missed her," Carol questioned again. "I guess we can catch her tomorrow."

"Ya'll can stay over for a bit. Carol threatened me to stay in; she must know I'm itchin' to go huntin'".

Rick grinned, but wanted to sulk in his moment. He was planning to get Michonne to himself tonight - somehow convince her to stay with them and shed all of those layers she had; reach deep into her soul through making love. But this was his brother. "We'll stay for a little bit."

After a few hours, the dad decided it was getting late. Apparently, the samurai wasn't coming back anytime soon (little did he know, she wanted to escape from the petty conversations that surrounded her). He did his best friend farewell and walked out with his children before darkness set in. That's when they heard the high pitch screams.

"Take Judith to the house," Rick commanded Carl.

Carl had matured enough to know that his sister's safety was more important than bravado and obeyed. Rick instinctively reached for his python, until he remembered that dumb rule. He was sure Glenn was still up for their plan tomorrow.

He turned a corner to find a woman trying to shield a boy who was being stumped by a man. Rick pulled the man off and began punching him in the face.

"Stop," yelled the blonde woman as she attempted Rick's fist from flying.

The man held his jaw. "Who the fuck are you?! You don't know who you're fucking with!"

"I don't give a damn. I'll still kill you if I have to."

The man looked at Rick, maybe seeing some honesty in his calm reply. "Samantha, let's go."

"She's not going." Rick was reveling in this. As a sheriff, he always wanted to fuck up pieces of shit who thought it was okay to accuse women. This was apparently happening. He wasn't going to key this scum force her back.

"You seriously don't know who you're fucking with," was the man's last words before he sulkily walked away.

-000000000-

Rick offered her and her son to spend the night for protection. After small talk in the confines in his room (he said he'd stay on the couch, but she claimed she felt safer with him by her side) he began to notice how attractive this Samantha was. Then she effortlessly sat on his lap. He almost felt guilty, like as if he was betraying Michonne. But he and Michonne weren't in a relationship, were they? After all they had been through, she was pushing him away, right. Why was this woman underneath him as he thrust in and out, and not her? Samantha kept it to herself how he mumbled Michonne's name in his sleep. She needed release probably as much as he did. But it would be nice to keep a protector like him.

-000000000-

_**Present**_

Another bucket of ice cold water splashed on Pete's face.

His gasps weren't enough to stop him. "I get it. Your black bitch delivers the punches, but all you can do is throw water at me. Lemme guess, you're not a pussy when it comes to my wife because you want to fuck her." Pete said that to get a rise out of the constables. He was very used to Samantha sleeping around - that didn't faze him. However, both of his torturers seemed hurt by his words somehow.

"It doesn't matter if your Douglass' butt buddy or not," Michonne leaned into his face. "We're gonna put a stop to you taking advantage of the people who live here."

Pete chuckled. "It's not just me, ignoramus. You think this place has lasted this long by just being some peaceful cumbaya bullshit? This is how this place works!"

"Well, get comfortable," Michonne tossed some jerky to him. "You'll be here for quite a while."

"Fuck you black bi-"

Pete's insults were interrupted by a flurry of punches from Rick. Michonne actually had to hold him back. "Don't you ever call her a bitch again!"

She was still holding Rick back, as Pete spit out a bloody tooth and laughed.

-000000-

Michonne wrapped her friend's hand and avoided his gaze. "You know, I once told Tyrese, the great man that he was, that anger makes you stupid gets you killed." She finally looked up at him.

"You're the one who wants to take down Douglass without a plan."

"Okay. So let's make a plan. Let's actually work together for once since being here." Her watery eyes searched his.

"Fine," he grumbled.

Her right hand landed on his. "I miss my friend. I need my friend back."

He looked up to respond, "I can't just be your friend. Not anymore."

Michonne's tears were interrupted by a knock on the door. She answered it to see Samantha standing there. Michonne couldn't help the roll of her eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"Thank you for helping me earlier today." She stepped in. "Is my husband still here?"

"He is. And he might be here for a while. "

Samantha inhaled deeply, not sure to register her emotions. "Rick!" She ran to hug him. He was taken aback at this unwanted exchange. He knew he had to end things with her, but didn't want to come off like he was using her.

"Um, hi," was all he could muster as he hugged her back. Michonne was gone when he looked up.

-000000000-

Michonne was enjoying her routine morning jog the next day. Exercise and yoga was her way of clearing thoughts of drama that circled her head. She missed the kids. No matter what was happening between her and Rick, she was sure Carl missed her too.

"Well, there she is." Jordan was joining her mid-jog.

She shook her head. "Dr. Jordan, you're starting to show up almost everywhere I am. Are you stalking me?"

He laughed. "No, maybe you're stalking me? I've been doing my morning runs ever since I got here."

"How long ago was that?"

"Maybe 2, 3 years."

Michonne quieted any other thoughts about this man's life. "You seem really into us bringing down Pete, and he's a comrade. Why is that?"

Jordan stopped running. Hesitation read all over his body.

"Jordan?"

"I've witnessed how he beats up on his wife, his son, and bullies people around the neighborhood. But there's more to it. There used to be a gynecologist, but she somehow disappeared. When that happened, Pete somehow specialized in the female anatomy. Then some women started disappearing. I brought this up to Douglass, and he basically told me I could go back out there if I didn't mind my own business."

Michonne was floored. "I, I have to go."

"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "What are you gonna do?"

She simply stated, "get shit done."

She sprinted off. Jordan never saw a woman like that before. He wanted to kiss her, but felt she might cut him if he did.


	6. Chapter 6

**_CodeName-M.e.: _**_ I definitely agree with you about Rick; he allowed the situation to get messy. I love your line about Jordan – indeed, the thirst _is _strong with this one!_

**_Siancore: _**_You're welcome Siancore, and thank you for the compliment!_

**_kimyso: _**_Yes, Michonne has a fan for life from me also. Your theory of her taking down Pete in front of Samantha and their child does seem to have some merit to it. I slightly disagree with you about what may happen to Richonne if they actually become a couple on the show. Gleggie has survived, and Rick and Andrea are doing well in the comics from what I hear. But, you could be right (and that would epically suck)._

**_Paisely2:_**_ So sorry that Rick is an arse in this story. Is there any way for him to make it up to you. Hey, you had a funny take on Jordan that I didn't recognize – it just made sense that Michonne would consider that. Soon enough, we'll see how the rest of the guy reacts to him. Also, it's nice to see someone give Samantha the benefit of the doubt._

**_KK: _**_After reading your comment, I just realized that neither one was absolutely honest to each other about what they wanted to do on their first night once they got to the Safe Zone. Shame on them, and proves that no one is perfect. LOL – Samantha does need some pride, but as Paisely2 pointed out, she doesn't have many options. Rick shouldn't have been any option though, lol. Rick does need to recognize _Jerome _is a force to be reckoned with._

**_literaturechick: _**_Yes, Pete is definitely up to no good. Rick must have been thinking with the wrong head…over and over again. Hopefully he'll stop._

**_Thanks for your views &amp; reviews!_**

**Chapter 6: And You Are?**

He had had enough. Number 1: this place was stifling. The kids all seemed too dumb to breathe. He was sure Judith could survive better than them. They were so called safe and comfortable, but it made him feel weak living amongst the oblivious. He was sure if a large enough herd came through, most of these people would be nothing more than food. He'd rather teach them something than to learn nonsense from school, but his father wasn't having that.

Speaking of dear ol' dad, number 2: the adults were weird. Out there in the world, things made sense. Of course walking corpses that only had the desire to eat didn't make sense. No. What did make sense was his family. There was no question on where his people stood. No stranger could just pop up and infiltrate the union his family had. But things got weird in the safe zone. He barely saw anyone anymore, and Michonne didn't live with them. If anyone could get why, it was Carl. He knew she'd come around 24/7 anyway, and would still be a great friend to others while "living" with them. He wanted his best friend to himself, but sometimes wondered if too much Judith would bring her back memories of her past. She doted on his baby sister, but he always wondered when the grieving mother in her would finally explode from keeping it all in. It was no secret, but she kept Andre under lock and key in her heart.

Maybe, if his dad didn't do things that made no kind of sense in his son's opinion, Michonne would have opened up more about this to Rick. Carl got the whole hero thing. When someone yelled out in horror in the woods, he and Glenn were the only ones still receptive to run in their direction. So, he understood saving that woman that night, and even bringing her and her son to their new home. What he didn't get was when she stayed in Rick's room. And then when she continuously came over. Carl never had the chance to date, to experience feelings beyond a crush on Beth. But he saw who stuck around each other and how they behaved. Maggie and Glenn were always touchy feely. Rosita and Abraham always snuck off. Everyone knew that Daryl and Carol had to know of each other's where-abouts at all times. Then there was Rick and Michonne. They just always…were…Rick _and_ Michonne. He had to check in with both of them. They always reassured each other, even without words. Carl was fortunate enough to never see them kiss, but even he knew there was something up that warranted no explanation. There was no malice in his heart about the situation – his mom was dead and he'd always miss her, but Michonne wasn't his mom. However, it just seemed that Rick was her's and vice versa. _It seemed that way_.

He followed a new daily routine where he dropped off Judith at a newly formed daycare, where Tara and Rosita worked. Rick offered to do it, but Carl really didn't mind. It was on the way to dreaded school, anyway.

"Hey broski," Tara gave a noogie to his deputy's hat.

"That's not my name," he mumbled. He gave his sister a kiss and handed her over to Tara. "Where's Rosita?"

"She's in the back, changing the only other baby we have here for now. Hey," she leaned in to whisper, "I don't know how long I can do this."

Carl inquired, "what, working with babies is too hard? You just started today."

"Pfft, no! If I could swim in a sea of babies, I would! They're so rare and so beautiful nowadays. My niece was the chubbiest, happy…" Tara's eyes drifted off, but re-focused in seconds. "No, I mean I don't know if I can work with Rosita anymore. My God, since we've gotten here, she tries to wear even _more _of next to nothing. And I live with her too! She makes it so hard to be around…" She wanted to continue, but had to remember who she was talking to. Eugene was her fellow admirer of how others looked. Besides, Carl appeared to be more mature than his age, but wasn't fortunate enough to experience the teenage dating scenes that were around years ago. He probably had no clue about her tensed up struggles.

Carl chuckled a bit. He wanted to shrug it off as more grown-up problems, but as soon as the door opened and he saw Rosita's exposed flat stomach, he understood. "Hey handsome," she beamed. "And look, lil mamma Judy!" She waved the baby's chubby hand at them, and sashayed to the other end of the playroom.

"You'll be okay, I think," Carl stated. "Have you seen Michonne?"

Tara thought for a few seconds. "I think I saw her jogging around the walls."

-0000000-

It wasn't easy to catch up with her, but Jordan didn't mind the chase. She slowed down when he heard his heavy panting behind her.

"You jog out here every day, really?" Michonne joked, allowing him to breathe.

"Well, it's pretty hard to keep up with perfection." He somehow was able to share a smile through his inhalations.

Michonne blushed. "I only stopped so you would. Please don't follow me. You seem to have some genuine concerns about this, but what I'm about to do might get ugly."

She wasn't ready for him to put his hand on her shoulder. "Whether you think I can handle it or not, I wouldn't be comfortable with myself to let you go at something I should have handled myself. I'm sure you got it, but even if you outrun me, I'm gonna still catch up."

Michonne was frozen. Her stomach actually twisted in a way that she thought was reserved for only one person.

"Michonne!" The yell startled her out of her daze, where she was taking in how beautiful Jordan's hazel eyes were. On top of that, he was tall. She used to have a thing for tall men. "Michonne!" came the yell again. Carl was running in her direction. Her gears automatically shifted from a moment of appreciating the other sex to genuine concern for the teenager. "Who, who is this?" _Since when did Michonne let anyone, let alone a _stranger_, touch her?_

"Oh, Carl, hey!" It was clear she was surprised.

"Hey, who's this?"

"I'm Jordan," the man's hand reached out to Carl.

Carl's mind went through a thousand thoughts. He must have been a trustworthy man to even lay a finger on Michonne and still have a full arm. However, he felt threatened by this Jordan guy; he just couldn't put his finger on it. "Carl," he returned the greeting and shook his hand. "Michonne, where have you been? Me and Judith miss you."

Michonne's face soured. "Oh, Carl. I'm so sorry. Things have been…busy."

"If there's some problems, you know we're a team. I can help!" He instinctively tapped his waist where his gun belt used to be.

"Carl, I know you would." She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned in. "But things are a bit different right now. I can't let you help right now when you have school to go to, and I'm sure your father wouldn't be happy if you did." His eyes rolled when she said _father_. "I'll be at your house later, all right? Promise."

Jordan watched this whole scene out, trying to figure out who they were to each other. The adolescent just told a woman who seemed pretty lethal that they are a team, and it seemed plausible. She talked to him in such a motherly fashion; was she his step-mom, aunt by marriage, what was it?

Carl hesitated, but he knew how she was with him. "Okay."

"But you have to go to school."

He sighed, "Fine. But who is he?"

Jordan chortled. "I'm a doctor, trying to help your friend Michonne solve a case."

"Isn't that what her partner, my father is there for?"

_Oh, okay,_ thought Jordan. The blue eyes. The hat. The standoff-ish, authoritarian and ready for war stance. Michonne. Why of course, this boy was Rick's son.

Michonne clarified, "all cases need witnesses. Jordan is one of them. Your dad is doing his part. But I need you to do yours, play the part, go to school. We played different roles out there, and we got different roles here. But no matter what, we do what we have to do."

"But we're still family right?" Carl asked.

Michonne reassured him, "always," and followed with a hug. She considered telling him to be more respectful to others, but knew that wasn't exactly right. Their rule in life was to not trust strangers – that would go against everything about survival.

"I'll see you later," smiled Carl.

"Yes, just stop by my house. There might be some stale M&amp;Ms for you."

They both smiled as Carl walked off. "So," began Jordan, "he's-"

"Yes, he's Rick's son."

"Were you two ever-?"

The softness in her quickly hardened, "Jordan, if you want to be the type of witness who's crazy enough to be a part of solving the case, then let's go."

Jordan simply nodded, not wanting to strike her bad side. They ran off. Carl was watching in the distance, considering if he should betray the trust of his closest allies by following to ensure that she would stay safe.

-00000000-

His dream was nothing but a torturous playback. It started with the painful words exchanged, followed by the pushing of hands, ultimately leading up to what his soul desired. That kiss, the feel of her soft, luscious lips. The feeling of completion washed over him, as his heart sang out _finally_. Then he remembered that she momentarily hated him, and he lost it all. It turned to black started all over again. He was grateful and miserable to wake up from the unconscious recount of yesterday's events.

Rick Grimes rubbed his eyes as he sat up in his bed, his blanket covering his lower half. Nothing was going how he thought it would. Even if Michonne wasn't his lover, he knew he would be more miserable to lose her as a friend. That seemed to be happening. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door.

"Yes?"

It opened.

"Carl, I didn't say open it!"

Carl's eyes darted to the woman sleeping by his father. "What is she, moving in or something? Doesn't she have a house or something?"

"Carl, she's right here. Show some respect. Besides…"

Carl shrugged. "I'm sure she could stay in the living room," he mumbled.

"Wait outside, I'll talk to you."

Carl always pushed the edge to how far he disobeyed his dad. He wanted to really make Rick feel uncomfortable by standing there as long as possible, but really couldn't stand the sight of Samantha looking so snuggly there. He did make sure to slam the door, however.

"Sonnova…" sighed Rick.

"It doesn't matter, I was awake the whole time," Samantha grumbled.

"Oh, I'm sorry for that."

She rested on her arm. "It's okay, I understand. It must not be easy for him to see you with someone other than his mother. You play with your ring every time I come around. It must be hard for the both of you."

Rick hadn't even noticed that he was fiddling with his ring at that very moment. It crossed his mind that he planned to take it off when he confessed to Michonne about how much he needed her. "You have no idea. Listen, there are some thangs we have to discuss."

"Do you feel bad about sleeping with a married woman?"

"Well," Rick glanced at his reddened knuckles. Driving his fists into her husband's face after he was vulgar towards Michonne was not a good enough relief. Screwing his wife? Well, that seemed unnecessary.

She giggled. "Pete makes it hard for anyone to feel bad for him."

Samantha started to play with the curls in his head. The touch was making him nauseous.

"Samantha."

"Yes?"

Rick exhaled, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I don't know, I think I've been taking advantage of you. You're in a vulnerable spot, and I keep allowing us to have sex when I really shouldn't."

She shifted her body to sit up. "Well, why shouldn't we?"

Rick tried to find the words to express that she was definitely not the person who should be in his bed. What was even worse was that he had absolutely no feelings for her, except for lust, pity and empathy. "Other people can get hurt."

She knew he meant Michonne. He was whimpering her name in his sleep, a bit more loudly this time, after all. "You think you're the first person I cheated on Pete with?" Rick's eyebrows raised when she asked that question. "Hey, don't judge! It's not as simple as divorce and child custody anymore."

It was ironic how much that echoed the last conversation he had with Lori. Yes, divorce seemed to be a thing of the past. However, Rick did not need to be involved in their marital mess.

"I understand that," he replied. "But there's more to it than that."

She got up from the bed and reached for her clothes. "If that's so, I don't get why it's so easy for me to get into your bed."

Rick pinched his nose. It took some effort to quell the ruthlessness in himself that wanted to tell her he hadn't had sex in years, so any bit of intercourse he got for time being was good enough to go to again. Instead, a better solution was to be honest with her and ultimately honest with himself.

"I'm in love with Michonne."

-000000000-

Michonne's keys dangled in her hands as she hesitated. "It's probably best for you to wait outside."

Jordan nodded, "I understand. I can't just waltz in on our first date."

Her cheeks reddened. "Funny. I have to get some…things, and some of my people should tag along, just in case. We really don't trust people we don't know so easily."

"Oh, is that so? I couldn't tell," Jordan smiled.

"Yea, so who are you," came a gruff Southern voice from down the hallway. Daryl stood there, wondering why Michonne looked so chummy with this guy.


	7. Chapter 7

**_AN: Your reviews are killing me – I'm just absolutely loving them! I don't have much time to respond to all of them, but I am grateful. Also, my head is absolutely spinning from episode 509. I'm still sad over ***SPOILER*** the major character's death. But O-M-G the Richonne-like biz that happened; damn!_**

**Chapter 7: Uneven Tug-A-War**

_One thing people didn't seem to understand was that Rick was in control. His actions didn't need to be second guessed and any of his outrages stemmed from being confined. He was often sidelined and thangs needed to change. He worked. He maintained a great GPA. He and his best bud were the leaders of his pack. Most of all, he had his woman to further encourage his Testosterone fueled mind that grew was indeed a MAN. _

_Thomas Grimes' fists tightened. The belt just wasn't good enough yet. The thought ran through his head that he and his son might actually have an actual fight pissed and saddened him. He was tired of the random disrespect and chest puffing that Rick was asserting. After so much lecturing and posturing, the middle aged man suddenly smiled._

_"You'll get yours, one day," he foreshadowed. _

Rick thought about this at the beginning of the day. His didn't drive a car yet, couldn't find too many girls his age, and rarely had any best buds except adults. Well, his best bud was part of the problem, but we'll get back to that. The evolution of Carl was on an adrenaline rush, however. He knew how to handle and take care of a gun. He actually learned how to survive longer than the rest of the human population. The poor boy had also killed; and wouldn't hesitate to do it again if he felt the situation warranted it. Rick smiled. Yea Dad, you got your revenge tenfold.

"I figured as much. I don't even know why I kept it going. But you could have stopped it. Ha, this is how it always goes!"

He heard the noise in the background, but it didn't register.

The blonde woman who accompanied his bed last night jumped so her jeans could fit her better. "Oh, looks like I'm putting on a few pounds."

Rick looked towards Samantha. She had on a bra - really, there was nothing wrong with how she looked. He pondered about how vulnerable this woman might be, and how he possibly added to many issues that she already dealt with.

"There's nothing wrong with you, you know. I'm a piece of shit for this, but," he tried to find the words to let her know that she was there because he could never shut Michonne out of his system. Samantha was there because he wanted Michonne to be the one he pleased at night, the one to get the closest with - as much as possible. Samantha was nothing like her, but he wasn't thinking right since he got into the Sage Zone. That wouldn't sound right and wouldn't do Samantha justice - basically I used you because I didn't have her. "What happened between us was on the heat of the moment. I'm sorry-"

"Oh, just stop," came a muffled voice as her shirt dropped over her head. "I'm not stupid. I knew you were in love." Rick was confused. "The only person who probably didn't know are you and her." She laughed.

"Then why?"

Samantha sighed. "I don't have much escape, you know. He's," her hand motioned around her, "everywhere. Even when things were different, I'd escape, and he'd find me. You're not the first," her watery eyes looked at Rick. "You're not the first that I let myself hide away with. You probably won't be the last. Don't feel so sorry, because I used you too."

"That has to stop. It's not gonna change anything. You have to leave -"

"Didn't you hear me? That never works!"

Knock knock!

"Your son," she tried to discreetly wipe her eyes and giggled. "You're already in trouble with him."

Rick simply nodded.

"If she loves you as much as you love her, you better show her before it's too late. I know I haven't helped the situation, but not everyone can be so lucky."

She stepped out without saying much. Rick was relieved to be honest with her, but that honesty came with heaviness. What kind of living did she have?

"So, you got rid of the dead weight?" Began Carl.

"Carl..."

His son exhaled. "I dropped Judith off."

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thanks. But why aren't you at school?"

"I was, but I bumped into Michonne."

Rick almost smiled. "I know how much you miss seeing her around all the time, but you have new responsibilities. Believe it or not, your education is-"

"She was around some tall guy named Justin or something."

"Jordan."

"Jordan?"

"Yea."

Carl scratched his head. "Well, she was with that guy. I don't know, it just seems weird that she doesn't come by to see us in the morning, but is spending time with him."

Rick grimaced. This was none of his son's business, but he definitely identified with the threatening uneasiness. ""She was probably handling business with him."

He shook his head. "She said the same thing. Said something about they were doing police business. But _you _weren't there and _you're _her partner. He was too…close with her." Carl knew Michonne could protect herself, but he was getting older. If his dad wouldn't do it, he would.

"Where was she at?"

"Not too far from her apartment, by the wall."

Grimes walked to his bathroom. "I'll handle it. Look, Michonne can handle herself."

"I know."

"Like I said, she can handle herself. I need you to get to school, and don't worry about her. You missed out on enough already, but an education is important if we plan on staying here for the long haul. _I'd be damned if we lose her_."

"What was that?"

"Get your butt to school."

Rick didn't catch Carl's grin. "Alright."

-00000000000-

"Since when did we start bringin' in stray dawgs to our house?"

"Daryl…"

"I'm just sayin', y'all complain about me still bringin' in squirrels, but you were just about to bring in some random person into the mix."

Michonne's eyes cut through him. "Dixon! There is no need for all of that disrespect."

Daryl grumbled. "What are you doing bringing this Jordache-"

"Jordan," Jordan corrected.

"This _Jordache_ dude to my abode this early in the morning? You don't know if Carol or Sasha are up."

"They're always up at this time," Michonne clarified.

"What are you doin' with this guy at this time anyway?"

"Well, I'd love to answer, but you know, you want to keep this conversation in the hallway. It's important and we _all _need to discuss it in the apartment. Now, move out of the damn way!"

Daryl moved off the door. "Well, why isn't Rick here?"

Michonne's jaws clenched as an answer. "Not everything that happens has to involve _Rick_."

Daryl felt the ice that rolled from Michonne's tone. _"Damn, did he really mess that up, and is that why this fool is here?"_

They opened the door to see Carol and Sasha smirking. Michonne internally kicked herself – her business was everyone's business.

"Is your name Jordache or Jordan," asked Carol, carrying on Daryl's level of disrespect. Michonne rolled her eyes; privacy was surely missed.

"Stop being rude," she chastised. "Everyone, this is Jordan. Jordan, this is: Carol, Sasha, and you already met Daryl." He waved with pinched lips. Their responses were not welcoming; it was nothing but cold stares. She admired that he didn't seem too intimidated by everyone. People usually looked at her people as outlaws. They appeared at the safe zone with ripped clothes, matted hair, and a strong distrust for any stranger. People smiled and they scowled. Douglas could sense their strength, and that's probably why he took them in. He must have thought they weren't the type to turn the other cheek if he was involved in any dirt. He was tremendously wrong. "Jordan is a doctor who wants to help me take down a man named Pete."

"That bitchass we took down the other day," asked Sasha.

"Yes, him. It turns out Pete is up to much more than beating on his wife and bullying townspeople. Jordan has some strong suspicions that he is involved with the disappearances of many women, and Douglas has been okay with it."

"Strong suspicions? Why didn't you do anything about it?" Daryl's question was directed towards Jordan.

"I'm just one man. I asked Douglas about the disappearances, but he didn't tell me anything. I have the feeling that he would have kicked me out if I pushed it," was Jordan's reply.

Daryl scoffed. "For all of that, we should just let this pansy doc keep on with bein' scared, and get _Rick_ to handle this."

Michonne's face turned up. "Rick is probably too preoccupied. I came to you all, the rest of my family, because I want to get this done."

Sasha interrupted the potential argument from boiling. "Well, Jordan, how do you plan to help us with this?"

"Maybe we can interrogate Douglass and Pete?" suggested the physician.

Carol chimed in. "Do you know what kind of world we live in? That might be the start of it, to find out who else is involved, but we're ultimately gonna have to kill them."

Jordan nodded his head. "You're right. I don't know why else I thought something else would work - like imprisonment. And if we kill them, what then? Who will be in charge?"

Michonne bit her bottom lip. It was obvious to her post-apocalyptic family who'd be in charge. "We've gone through a lot worse, Jordan, and have fortunately found a way out. This place is too small and has nowhere to place prisoners. We've been using a temporary place to hold Pete, but if he stayed there too long, it would be inhumane. "

"So killing him would be?" Jordan glanced at the people who resided in the apartment where he stood. Carol looked almost docile, but she didn't flinch at the thought of killing. Sasha had iciness in her eyes, as if part of her was dead already. That Daryl, who Jordan didn't want to admit was intimidating, seemed too rough to not be a killer. Then there was Michonne. He was partially attracted to her because of her mystique. That mystique could have been lethal. He was sure they had to take a living person's life in order to survive out in the rough world beyond those walls. This moment made him realize that it might have had to be done more than he would like to know.

Michonne sighed. "It's not something we would want to do, but if it needs to be done…"

He slowly nodded his head. "Um, okay, but Douglass has run this place for so long, and I'm not sure if he has a replacement in mind." Jordan tried to mask any fear he had in their idea.

There was a sudden pounding on the door. Carol went to get it while Jordan tried to explain why killing was probably not the best option.

"Oh, this will be interesting," Carol's voice echoed in the background. "Haven't seen you visit here often."

"I'm just saying, it could lead to many problems with many holes," continued Jordan.

Daryl sneered, "You're not coming up with any solutions."

"You may not like what we might do, but we don't have many opti-" Michonne froze.

Rick Grimes peered at her with the eyes of a man lost out to sea. His eyes darted out to Jordan, then back at her. Michonne momentarily thought that she didn't have time for this, for any potential drama. She hesitated to see what he was planning to do while everyone in the living room tensed up.

"Rick, it's probably good that you just showed up," announced Sasha.

Daryl continued, "yea, because doc here claims that he wants to help, but ain't got the balls to do it." Carol jabbed his shoulder.

"Say what you will," Michonne defended, "but he didn't have to show up at all. This is pretty serious, and not everyone would put their life on the line."

Rick asked with his eyes never leaving Michonne, "life on the line for what?"

The samurai rarely felt uncomfortable from Grimes' stares until now. Their mouths moved and the conversation continued, but it was as if no one else was in that area with them. It was incredibly rude to Jordan…she knew that Rick knew that.

"Helping with the Pete case, but he knows that Pete and Douglass have more dirt going on," she replied.

He cocked his head. "So," he finally faced Jordan, "you've known about some _dirt_ going on, but have managed to stay alive. I find that pretty convenient."

"It's not that simple." Jordan's jaws clenched. It seemed that the few times he encountered Rick Grimes, it was a major annoyance. "I've explained the situation."

"Well, I didn't hear that explanation. Lemme tell you something, it's pretty daggone coincidental that you find yourself everywhere Michonne is. We leave the job, there you are. She's out jogging in the morning, there you are."

"We work in the same building, and she jogs where I've been jogging."

"And now, all of the sudden, you just miraculously have some insight to a case we've been working on? You have no idea…anythang happens to her, I'll ki-"

Michonne was beyond through with where this conversation could be heading. "Rick, really, don't you think I would be smart enough to tell if he was bullshitting or not?" Rick pinched his nose. "That's it! Excuse us," she pulled him into her bedroom.

They left an awkward environment behind. Daryl laughed, "I wouldn't want to be you right now." He slouched into a couch.

Sasha heavily heaved. "Carol, weren't we about to eat before this all happened?"

"Yes…Jordan, do you want a bite?" Both women glanced at him, pitying the horrible situation he was in.

He really had no appetite, but wanted to keep a distance from Daryl. "Sure," he agreed.

-000000000000-

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Rick grimaced. "Nothing's wrong with me. What is going on with you, bringing this absolute stranger over here, with what I bet is a cockamamie story!?"

Michonne licked her lips in frustration. "Excuse me? I can bring whoever I want, whenever I want. No one else had a problem with him coming over."

"Daryl didn't seem too hap-"

"Daryl's your road dog!"

Rick looked the other way. She was right, but she had no idea how Daryl called him a dumbass for sleeping with Samantha and potentially ruining it with the person he really loved. "Michonne, how do you know you can really trust what this guy is telling you? And didn't we already discuss that we're partners – we have to work together on thangs like this?"

Michonne's teeth grinded. "I wanted to get shit done. Your Samantha popped up last night, and that got in the way."

Rick rubbed his face. "Look," he tried to close the space between them, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you that way. Me and you, we never told each other what we meant to each other. I, I was stupid. But she's not in the picture anymore." He stepped closer as she backed up to a wall, internally fighting to resist her feelings. "I told her I'm in love with you, because I am." He put his hand under her chin to move in for a kiss.

"No, cut the shit. Just no. Was it always this easy for you?"

"Easy? No, actually, this is hard as hell! How do you think I feel, knowing I probably messed it up with a person completes me? I didn't realize that you were always there, even in the beginning when I was an asshole. We were so busy surviving, that I couldn't even notice how much I loved you until…"

Michonne laughed, "Until you stuck your dick in another woman?"

-00000000000-

"Ay doc, they been in there maybe 10 minutes now. I'd leave if I were you – don't wanna hear the thumpin' and screamn'."

"Dixon," Carol chastised. "You need to stop."

Jordan didn't respond, but he was starting to feel like a fool for hanging around. He glanced at Sasha's reaction to the situation. Her eyes darted elsewhere. _Yep, I'm a fool._

-0000000000000-

"Okay, I deserve that."

"What am I supposed to do Rick, just say, okay, I'm yours?

**_Really, what does Rick expect Michonne to do? What will she do? And how much of a third wheel will Jordan allow himself to be? To be continued…_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_AN: I don't own The Walking Dead…blahblahblah…OMG, the last episode still has me hyped. I am trying my best to not affect this story. But geewiz, I am on Cloud 9 once again (TPTB are killing and distracting me from my responsibilities dagnabbit). Thanks for reading &amp; reviewing!_**

**_Midnights-AM-child: _**_Thanks for seeing Samantha's pov. I don't like her getting in the way of Richonne, but she didn't mean to get in the way. See people, this is what happens when we don't express ourselves to those who matter most (I need to take my own advice)._

**_Codename-M.e.: _**_Thanks! I hope you still like where this story is going._

**_Anon: _**_I'm glad the story excites you that much!_

**_itscalledkarma:_**_ Yesssssss, that's something I'd say too. I have to remind myself at times that I am not Michonne (I actually think she's a bit more sane than me; I've said worse to men). Thanks, as always, for your comments (they crack me up, lol)._

**_Siancore:_** _That sounds like a wise decision. Which version of Rick would do that; Season 1 Rick had to be the most sane Rick. I'm bringing up his sanity for a reason…_

**_literaturechick: _**_Is there anythang Rick can do to get him back into your good graces? Anythang? Rick doesn't trust Jordache much either (haha…Jordache). _

**_severelybabykryptonite: _**_I do not take your review the wrong way. Any extreme emotion must mean I'm probably (I hope) doing the right thing. Your frustration is the type of frustration I have with the show as well. You know that meme with the stick figures: one trying to force two others to "just kiss already!"? Yep, that's me every Sunday._

**_KK: _**_Spoiler: no pregnancy scare here! I'm not trying to jump the shark that much. Ole' girl was just rambling, so let's just put that to rest. Daryl is adorable to me just because he's Daryl, lol. You want Jordache to catch a hint, but how can he? This is Michonne we're talking about, lol. I'll put Samantha on a workout plan, just for you._

**_birdnmouse: _**_You're saying that Rick should have just used his words, but I think that's always been his problem. He gets straight to the point with handling business, but had huge regrets with Lori because he didn't get the chance to resolve their issues. Now, I'm feeling bad for him again lol._

**_Paisely2: _**_Thanks for your compliments! Everyone mind as well get friend-zoned! Have you ever dated someone, met their friends, and had that uncomfortable feeling telling you that you shouldn't be there? I think Daryl would be the worst friend to be around in that moment._

**_Nay766: _**_Michonne would need more reason to whoop dat azz; she doesn't have time for that, lol. I see you have no love for Jordan. You're absolutely right about how Rick should go about getting in Michonne's good graces._

**_HermioneSnape4eva: _**_How can a _normal_ guy like Jordan compete with the enigma that is Rick Grimes? Can we give him just a lil' bit of a chance, lol? You're right; both Michonne and Rick are to blame for their current state of affairs. _

**_Thanks again for all the reviews!_**

**Chapter 8: Protection**

Jordan could make out some of what was being said from the room. Despite a few yells, he really couldn't. No one in the kitchen seemed to care about his presence anymore. Carol and Sasha gave him some breakfast, and began talking about the blessings of bathing. The grey-haired woman remarked about how she almost cursed a woman out but stopped herself from doing so. Apparently, when their group arrived to the Safe Zone, a woman tried to recruit Carol to laundry duty.

"What is it about laundry," inquired Sasha.

"A past history," replied Carol. Daryl was sharpening an arrow and stared at Carol. She looked back at him, and Sasha connected the dots. The only one out of the loop, of course, was Jordan.

He considered asking them if they could let him in on what happened to this woman in the past that linked to domestic chores. It had to be something insidious. There were some women who would shakenly roll into his hospital, whose eyes darted away from him when he asked certain questions. They would not have to answer him really. Their blackened arms, knotted foreheads, and scarred backs was the only answer he needed. But he could do nothing about it if a child was not harmed as well. Nine times out of ten, the women just wanted his help to patch up the physical wounds. He knew he would see them revisit, or ultimately in the newspaper.

Jordan shook these thoughts out of his mind. Whatever happened to Carol was in the past. Apparently, she didn't need him…something must have happened to make that man disappear. Could it have been that rough Daryl? It was none of his business. He began to feel more out of place by the second.

"Excuse me, I have to go."

Daryl smirked, "I'm sure they're done shackin' up in there by now." He dodged an apple thrown by Carol.

"Are you sure," Sasha asked. "Michonne did bring you here for a reason."

_Heh, Michonne is still in that room_. "You all seem like you can handle this. Besides, I have to start my shift, and it seems like we are a doctor short." Without another word, he rushed out. He truly did want to help, but he was starting to question himself as to what made him decide to get involved _now_. It was true that Michonne's group had manpower that he didn't. At the same time, he would probably do anything to be around Michonne, if possible. That worried him.

As Jordan walked out, Daryl saluted, "see ya around, Jordache!"

-000000000000-

"Was that the door?" Michonne asked.

Rick snorted, "And if it was? I don't think we're done talkin' about this. It's not like you to let a complete stranger where you live, and do you really believe what he's sayin', just like that? I know Pete's a prick, but we're talkin' about abduction. What is his aim here?"

"Rick, since when do you question my judgment?" His blue eyes buried into her. "Okay, you didn't agree with me about Aaron, but look at us now."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, followed by cocking his head to the side. "It isn't just because I don't want to see you with someone else…"

"I didn't even get _with_ him yet."

Rick ignored her interruption, "it's just that I don't want you to get hurt either.

Michonne smiled, "well, how about we put all of this soap opera bullshit to the side, and be the constables we're supposed to be. If you want to make sure that I don't get hurt, get your head out of your ass and let's go handle this shit. We've always been great partners. Let's not let drama get in the way of that."

Rick returned her smile. "Okay, alright."

"If that's so, what we're about to do will change everything we had going here. Douglass can't be in charge anymore if he's doing what Jordan said he is."

Rick nodded. His mind was made up at that moment. No matter how he tried to avoid it, it seemed he would always meet the same fate. Protecting his family and loved ones was not as simple as in someone like Glenn's case. All Glenn had to do was be a part of the group. At the end of the day, however, his priority always was Maggie. It was not that simple for Rick. What he did to protect Carl and Judith had implications for everyone. How he loved and lost Lori, which affected everyone. Now, he loved Michonne, and would follow her to the ends of the earth.

They stared at each other. They didn't need words to convey a conversation. Rick wanted to embrace her, but knew they had to start from scratch. Michonne loved him, but wasn't going to lose focus.

As he left her room, Michonne had to go deep into her thoughts. It was good to know that he ended things with Samantha, and that he finally figured out his feelings. Yet, this worried her just a bit. She loved Rick for his heart, his leadership, how he cared for his children, and many other things. This was, however, the first time she saw him in love. She didn't know how Rick was with Lori, but she saw the after effects. A Rick in love could be a crazy Rick. She reigned him in from insanity before. Seeing him rip out a man's throat with his bare teeth did not make her flinch. So why should she even be concerned with a little bit of jealousy and random sex?

-0000000000000-

"It doesn't matter who you are," continued the redheaded receptionist, Barbara. "Douglass will not be seeing anyone at this time."

"Is he takin' a shit," Darryl asked.

Barbara grasped her blouse," wha-, excuse me?"

Carol added, "Is he taking a shit? There should be no other reason for him to not see his constables."

"You and," Barbara scowled as she pointed to Daryl, "are not the constables. The only two are Rick Grimes and Michonne…" She looked at the paper taped to her desk. "Well, Michonne. You other three are not constables and have to set up an appointment."

Rick bit his bottom lip with impatience. "Ma'am, the constables are bringing guests, whether Douglass' receptionist likes it or not. Now, you are either gonna let us in without a problem, or you're gonna with a problem. What's it gonna be?"

Barbara used to be a banker. She was quite surprised but honored to be given the job as Douglass' receptionist/secretary. It wasn't too hard for her to survive after the turn – Alexandria was where she was at when it happened. Since she didn't experience the outside world, she still maintained her older world values of turning her nose up at people she considered to be beneath her. She wanted to consider these people as a part of that category. "Mr. Grimes, they are not worthy of his presence."

Without a word, Sasha punched her in the face, instantaneously knocking her unconscious.

"Thank you," Michonne responded.

The receptionist's desk was in front of a double door. Daryl pushed the door slightly, and the others walked through. No one was posted outside of the doors of a long hallway. The walls were adorned with pictures of past government officials. It was the same building that the survivors came to for job assignments. Here they were again, doing things that would likely get them all fired.

"That was his office, right," Sasha whispered.

"Yes," Michonne replied.

Rick would have knocked on the door a few days ago, when he cared about staying on the leader of the Safe Zone's good side. That was before he had an inkling that this man was up to some devious activities. No one was perfect; most assuredly everyone alive had killed someone. That was different than kidnapping women and doing who knows what with them, and terrorizing people to give up their goods. Then again, did Rick care about that once Michonne brought up that this man could not rule anymore? Did she awaken that person he thought he put to rest, the one who could only sleep at night if he was in charge of his people's protection?

The door flew open, much to Douglass' surprise. There was a young woman bounded to a chair. Her hair was stringy and her skin only looked brown from the amount of dirt that was caked up. Her bewildered eyes looked at the survivors, with unspoken words crying out to be saved.

A large man charged towards the survivors. Before Michonne's katana could reach his head, Daryl's arrow pierced through it.

"You, you have weapons!?" Douglass bellowed.

Rick charged at him and followed with a left hook. "That's the least of your problems. What the fuck is this?!"

Douglass trembled while Rick clutched onto his shirt. "This, this is what has been providing you safety."

Rick punched him again. "No, this looks like you're a sick asshole."

"Say what you will, but this is how I've been keeping Alexandria safe. We don't have much muscle, but when we find women, they're out bargaining chip."

Michonne grimaced. "Bargaining chip for what?"

"We're not the only community, you know. I, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this shady business once you people came along. But, I still had to meet their quota of, well, you know…"

Daryl commented, "No, dickwad, we don't know."

Douglass gulped. "Sex slaves…wives…whatever you wanna call it."

"How about you be someone's slave, wife, whatever you wanna call it?" mimicked Carol.

"Okay, fair enough. But I had to do something. These people are crazy! I, I had to do something!"

Rick cocked his head. "Well, guess what. You don't have to do anything anymore. We'll alleviate you of that responsibility."

"Wait, now hold up. I let you get away with imprisoning and beating up Pete…"

Rick interrupted him, tapping at his gun belt. Michonne noticed this. "No, it doesn't matter."

Michonne reached out to him before he unsheathed his machete. "Rick!"

Rick questioningly stared at her. "Do you really think he deserves to live?"

"If anything, he can probably tell us about who these people are."

Douglass saw his way. "Yes, I can tell you things."

Rick rolled his eyes. "No, not this again. Jordan told you the same thing, and he really didn't help us with shit."

Sasha intervened, "well, we probably wouldn't have known about this if he didn't tell Michonne about it."

Rick leaned into Douglass' space, who, unbeknownst to anyone, had severely soiled himself. "Consider this your lucky day. Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you, though."

Carol was untying the young woman, who hugged her instantly. "Oh," she let out. Carol wanted to push her off with thoughts of Lizzie on her brain, but for some reason she hugged her back.

Daryl fanned the air in front of him. "Anyone smell that? It smells like horseshit!" Douglass squirmed.

-000000000000000-

Samantha walked with Ron to school. He stopped questioning where his parents were at night a long time ago. He somehow remained a responsible child who was prompt when it came to school. Her son amazed her, but she was ready for when all of his pent up anger would sprout up. She tried to keep things normal for him, but she felt she wasn't normal. She had to remind herself to not go on the deep end from all of the beatings that they endured. It had gotten to the point that abuse defined them…she hated it.

She walked over to the holding cell/storage closet that her husband had been staying in. He squinted when she turned on the light.

"Sam, Sam?" The blood was still present on his lip and under his eye. He smelled…

"Pete, did they forget about you."

He grunted. "Yes, your boyfriend and that black bitch forgot about me. What, you think the latest one you've been fucking would treat me like a human being?"

She tossed a sandwich at him, which landed on his face. She knew he couldn't grab it.

"Real slick. You can get away with that now."

"Pete, I have to leave you."

He laughed. "Yea, and where will you go? You're gonna try to get your own place? Move in with your boyfriend?"

She squinted. Maybe Pete didn't know it, but her _boyfriend_ ended their arrangement earlier that day. "I don't always need a man to find my way. I can make it."

"Sure, whatever. I found you when all you knew was how to live in your parents' house. That was before it was dangerous. You'll always need me. You're too weak. What about our son? You want him to be weak, just like you?"

Samantha began to cry. "Fuck you."

She stormed out while his rants became background noise. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had no choice but to have protection.

**-Hey, I know some of y'all are ready to string-up Samantha, assuming what she might be up to. I might think the same way too if I was reading this. But let's just see what happens with the next update.-**


	9. Chapter 9

**_I'm short on time… on to the reviews!_**

**_literaturechick: _**_Douglass sucks, this is true._

**_Guest: _**_I lol'ed when I read your review. Sometimes I think, man, I should have done that – but the saga continues. Sorry that this update is way past the last episode._

**_kk: _**_Jessie might not be preggo…doesn't mean she won't be a problem._

**_CodeName-M.e.: _**_Does Jordache get any kind of love? You gave more sympathy to Samantha lol_

**_severelybabykryptonite: _**_No telling what any of them might be up to_

**_Midnights-AM-Child: _**_Don't make me blush, lol_

**_Siancore: _**_I wonder what types of thoughts will you have for this update?_

**_HermoineSnape4eva: _**_I could live off of TWD marathons as well_

**_itscalledkarma: _**_You make me blush as well_

**Chapter 9: A New World**

It turned out to be a slow day at the hospital. Being one physician short had not impeded on the workflow after all. Jordan rubbed his face. That was an action he conditioned himself to stop doing years ago while on duty. It caused severe and annoying acne, adding to the stress that caused the face rubbing to begin with. He knew he was blessed to have zero to no patients today; he wouldn't be any good to them in his present state of mind, anyway.

"MJ, what's going on with you?" He looked up from the dictation area to see Dr. Nyung. "You look like your dog just died."

Jordan slowly shook his head. "I don't know. I don't even know how to explain it."

"Is it women problems?" Nyung didn't mind parking his bottom on the desk beside his friend. "I've been noticing a lot of the new ones who just came in. Then again, they might just disappear like some of the others…"

"No, that's not gonna happen."

"Yea, how do you know?"

Jordan fiddled with his fingers. "Those people are doing something we should have been done."

Nyung jumped from the desk. "What? Are you kidding me?"

"Have you noticed Pete around here lately?"

"Well, no. I was just happy to not see him around."

"Well, that is no coincidence."

Nyung rubbed his chin. "Why would Douglass hire them as cops? Did he think they would just go along with the program?"

"Well, we did, didn't we?"

An uneasy air passed between the two. Nyung shifted nervously. "We couldn't do much if we tried. I know this place might be dirty, but I don't want to be back on the outside living in dirt." The silence of guilt transpired once again. "How the hell did they find out, anyway?"

"I told one of the constables…Michonne."

"Michonne? That's the hot samurai chick, right?"

Jordan blinked rapidly. "Yeah."

Nguyen nodded his head. "You didn't tell them just because you're trying to be a good guy. You're not slick."

Jordan smirked. The more he thought about it, the more he frowned. "Well, even if I did, I didn't stick around long enough like I should have." _But I left quick enough for Rick to have more time with her alone_.

-000000000-

The knocks on the door pounded repeatedly. Apparently, it wasn't going to stop until she answered it. Samantha rolled off of her couch. She figured she could descend into her mild depression for a bit before her son Ron came home from school. Samantha's plans were thwarted; she gave up and answered.

"Who, who is it?"

"The constables," returned a man's voice.

She knew who it was. She took a breath in while realizing how professional he addressed himself and that he said constables. .._plural_.

"Ahem, just a sec," she returned. This was going to be strange.

She opened the door to the man she was in bed with earlier that day, looking at her without one ounce of lust. Standing by him was his partner that scared the shit out of her from time to time. They both had saved her at some point. That didn't necessarily mean that any of them would become her ally. The warrior looked at her the same way she did the last time she saw her at the precinct she could sense the indifference.

"Mrs. Anderson," Rick began. "You are aware that your husband has been in custody. We're here to inform you that he has more charges than he had before. " Rick internally laughed; he could make up any charges he pleased. "Would you like to come with us to the precinct?"

She noticed that the more he talked, the more he talked at her but didn't look at her. She did tell him to confess his love to Michonne, but somehow felt a spark of jealousy...and foolishness. He might have had sex with her, but all along she was the other woman.

Samantha checked her watch. "Okay, sure. Ron shouldn't be home anytime soon."

Rick nodded in acknowledgement.

"Follow us then," instructed Michonne.

-000000000-

Pete didn't know how to take the news. He was so sure of himself earlier this morning. That was until those asshole constables with their outlaw of a crew brought in Douglass to be his roommate. Clearly, the world was no longer his oyster. It was more if a rotten fish. What made it worse was that his partner in crime smelled...

"You smell like horse shit."

The older man meekly turned his head away. "No I don't" He shifted a bit... "I wonder if they'll let me take a shower."

Pete shook his head. "I've been here over 24 hours, and I don't smell like shit. And no, they haven't let me take a shower." He looked at Douglass once more in disgust, the former leader strapped to a chair just a few feet from him. "You, you shit yourself?"

"N-no..."

"What the hell man?"

"Look, Grimes was about to kill me. You don't understand. I could have died!"

"Well good, it's your fault anyway. Our system was working but you had to be a genius and allow them in. Even worse - make them the fucking cops. And who the hell uses the word constables? We didn't need any cops. How long did you think that setup would have worked, while we're busy shipping bitches to the other asshole?!"

Douglass looked down in remorse. "No politician isn't a little bit corrupt. I did what I had to do to protect us, all of here in Alexandria. Maybe I hoped that one day they could handle him."

Pete nearly jumped out of his chair, but was pulled back by his restraints. "You clearly don't know how to think ahead, you stupid shit."

Hours had passed in silence before the door to the storage room opened up. Rick and Michonne came in, followed by a sorrowful Samantha. The wife avoided the glares of her husband.

"So, you have me locked up for more than a day, and bring in my whore of a wife to rub it in?" sneered Pete. "What, you gonna fuck her in front of me?"

Michonne's fists clenched. She was getting tired of this whole fiasco.

"Allow me to inform the both of you what is happening here," Rick announced. "Douglass is no longer in charge. Michonne and I are. What we say, goes. Our committee is our people."

Douglass began to shake. "I don't think the people of Alexandria will be happy about that."

Michonne interrupted, "who gives a fuck what you think? You think your people will want to be under the rule of a person who sells women, and robs from them?"

Despite his machismo, Pete had grown slightly pale. "What are you gonna do with us? I have a son. What about my son?"

Michonne and Rick looked at each other. Unbeknownst to him, they were going to kill him. Jessie was actually brought along to say her goodbyes. Rick had outgrown the thought of leaving lose ends undone. If Terminus taught him anything, it was that things can come back to bite you. They nodded at each other.

"You're going to be executed," Michonne replied. "Your son will be okay."

"What? No!" yelped Jessie. "No, no, no! There's gotta be a different way! Rick, I know you, you're not the type to do this!"

Rick walked up to her, his eyes burying into her soul. "You don't know me, you don't know shit about me." He cocked his head. "You're just a person I crossed paths with. But my people, my family, we do what we have to do to protect ourselves. If this is gonna be a problem, let me know now."

Jessie never saw his eyes like this before. In truth, she never really did. She just saw the face of an inattentive man, especially during sex, while his mind wondered off to Michonne. What she saw now was a hardened killer. He was the type of person Alexandrians always said they wouldn't want in their walls. She was looking for an outlet, and maybe even protection, but this was not the person to gamble with. He could give a crap if Ron was going to be fatherless; just as long as the threat was gone.

She tried to hold in her tears. "Fine. I, I don't have a problem." She walked over to Pete, who was now pale as a ghost. "Pete, you and I started out good. I will remember you for that, and not for the rest. Somewhere in there, I still love you. I wish this didn't have to happen."

Pete's face was soaking wet with tears. "Samantha, you deserved better than me. I'm sorry. I don't know how I became this monster, but this is what I deserve…I guess." The word _monster_ made Michonne twitch. "What can I say? It's my last words with the person I fucked up the most with. Maybe if I didn't do everything I've done, maybe I wouldn't have ruined you." Samantha simply nodded. Her arms wrapped around his for their last embrace. She never felt so weak, not even when the man she wanted to save was the one who almost killed her in the past. As she walked out, she could hear weapons being unsheathed. She ran before she could hear the few screams.

-0000000000000000-

It was still an uneventful day. Jordan promised himself that he would go visit Michonne and step up to the plate. He never met anyone like her before. How lucky was he to bump into an entity like her at the end of the world? He never was religious, but it had to be a celestial reason for her to suddenly be in his life. For the time being, however, his eyes were buried in the same _Madame Bovary _that he had been reading for the past year and a half.

"That's scandalous read," stated a sultry voice.

He looked up to see Michonne.

"Oh, hey. Ummm, I'm sorry about leaving earlier today. I just…"

Michonne smirked, "don't worry about it. We handled it. I just had to stop by and let you know that there are some serious changes."

Jordan swallowed. She was alive; that was great! But what did this exactly implicate? "Is that so?"

"Yes, well, we're about to make an announcement in the next 30 minutes. I definitely need you to be there. It's going to be at the steps of the general market."

"I'll be there. Michonne, I know you can handle yourself, but I was seriously concerned about you. I didn't leave because I was scared to go with you. I left because I know that there's something between you and Rick. For some reason, that bothers me, maybe because I'm interested in you."

Heat rose up to her cheeks. She almost had to catch her breath. Rick had finally confessed his feelings to her, but now this one decided to do it as well. She was being flooded with the most sexual attention she had in years, but she knew better than to let her guard down with someone she barely knew. "Okay Jordan, I'll see you at the meeting," she coldly replied.

-00000000000-

The small town gathered in the heat of the sun. School was out, so Carl stood beside his father with baby Judith in his arms. His father instructed him to do so; only telling him that he will be genuinely surprised. Michonne was to Rick's right. He slid his hand into hers. She wanted to resist, but it just felt so natural. Daryl was to the left of Carl with Carol, and Sasha stood beside Michonne. Behind them was the rest of their family: Maggie, Glenn, Tara, Abraham, Rosita, Noah, and Eugene. Father Gabriel stood way in the back of the stoop.

"You all may be wondering why you are here," Rick bellowed. "It's because there have been some revelations and changes. I know we are new to all of you, but you have already welcomed me and Michonne as your constables. We found out that your leader, Douglass, has been trading women for your protection, and allowing Pete to steal from you." The men who rolled with Pete began to exchange stares of worry. Samantha tensely pulled on her hair with one hand, holding Ron tightly to her chest with the other. Jordan rubbed his hands apprehensively. "We could not allow for that to continue. You might not like it, but we could not allow for that to continue. There is no more Pete, no more Douglass. Michonne and I are now in charge, with the co-councils."

"What the fuck?!" someone in the crowd yelled.

"If you don't agree, you can simply leave and take your risk outside of these walls. We will not be a dictatorship. We will not take advantage. Some things will still apply – everyone will do their part to sustain this place that we call home. But we will not tolerate criminal behavior. In times like these, we can't take the risk."

"Fuck you," a man shouted.

Michonne cocked her head. "Mr. Thompson, if you are so big and bad to scream that out, then come up here and show how upset you are." The brooding Mr. Thompson mumbled under his breath. "We cannot hear you sir."

"I said, it ain't worth it," he retorted.

"You're right, because it's not," she continued. "We are here for the same reasons all of you are. I had been on the outside long enough to know how important a community is. But I will never stand by and watch as others are sold off to be raped or killed, or are terrorized on a daily basis. If that's what you want, you can have that – but not here. We are all survivors, and in order to keep surviving, we won't tolerate bullshit."

Rick's eyes fell into her speech; he had to remind himself as always that he was in front of others. Jordan was mesmorized as well, but he was worried as well. They said this wasn't a dictatorship, but his heart didn't agree. Samantha began to cry profusely. Things had changed, and only time would tell if it would be for the better.

**_-Okay people; is it a Ricktatorship? Michatorship? Richonnership? or just a nice ol' iron-fisted democracy? Are some people's concerns warranted?-_**

**_-btw, do you know how many times I had to slap myself for typing Jessie instead of Samantha? Urgh!-_**


	10. Chapter 10

**_AN_**: _I don't own anything related to The Walking Dead._

_Please keep in mind that this "Samantha" is nothing like "Jessie" on the show. This fic was created before Jessie made her appearance, so most of the interactions here came straight from my head. Hence, there was no "would you do this for anyone but me" crap, or "we've all lost things" (ugh). Instead, we have a woman who used sex as a way to escape an abusive relationship and didn't expect to have a hero. I hope to stick to those as her character traits._

_Alright, let's continue on with this Richonnership!_

**Chapter 10:** _Smoke_

Samantha's walk back to her home was full of stumbling. Ron's small size had to help her.

"Mom, are you okay," the young boy asked.

She looked down at him with tears. "Baby, I will be. I will be…" she stopped her attempts at verbalizing and convincing herself. Small whimpers flooded into all out sobs. "I'm okay. I'm okay," she sputtered repetitively.

"Mam," a man's voice caused her to stop. "Mrs. Anderson?"

She looked up to see a friendly face. She wiped the snot that had overtaken her lower face with a sleeve. "Jordan, hi Jordan."

"Mrs. Anderson, are you okay?"

She looked at Ron and then back at her husband's colleague. "They killed him, they fucking killed me. They forced me over there to let me know that. That they were fucking gonna kill him!"

Jordan looked around them as she screeched in public. One of his hands pleaded with her, while the other effortlessly lifted her from her kneeling position. "Sam, Samantha. You might want to calm down right now. Please, bring it down a notch before something happens."

Her head creaked over to her left shoulder in order to stare intently with glassy eyes at her husband's colleague. "Until something happens? It already has! That mother fucker up there, standing so pretty with the woman he was too much of a bitch to get with in the first place? That piece of shit fucked me, because I was easy enough, and then killed my husband."

Jordan wanted to digest that information, but now wasn't the time. "Okay Sam, but I don't want to see you get killed out here. Please, your son is right here." Samantha looked over to Ron, whose face was drenched in tears. "Let me help you to your home. You can tell me everything. But please, let's not do this out here."

Most of the crowd had already left. Rick's group was standing around to answer questions, but were somehow out of earshot from Samantha and Jordan's conversation. Not too many people could hear what was being said, except…

"Rick did what to you, hon?" Mr. Thompson eavesdropped.

Jordan's jaws clenched. "Charles, I'm handling this."

Charles Thompson wasn't hearing it. He moved in closer to the distraught widow. "I think the lady can speak for herself. If I heard what I think I heard, then maybe Pete and Douglas weren't killed for us, but because Rick can't keep his dick in his pants."

Jordan moved in between the rough and older man and Samantha. "Okay, don't try to act so concerned now about Pete and Douglas when women disappeared, when we always saw Sam with a new bruise. How about we just keep on digging our heads in the ground like before?"

Samantha wiped her nose. Did she just sit around when people continued to disappear?

Mr. Thompson grunted, "Okay. Well, maybe some of us are tired of doing that too." He heaved and left to join with Pete's old friends as they walked toward the cranberry-cocktail filled bar.

Jordan's fist subconsciously clenched. "Samantha, I'll walk you to your house."

"Um, no," she stated. "I, I think for the first time in a long time, I might actually be thinking clearly for once. Thanks Jordan." She patted his shoulder and walked off. This time, she didn't need to fall on little Ron to keep moving.

-00000000000000000000-

She continued to adjust and readjust her shawl. Michonne was trying to determine if it was from a nervous tick, or because she wanted to look just right in front of someone important. Whatever it was, Mrs. Neidemeyer was driving her up the wall with the constant shifting.

"Ma'am." Shift, shift. "Mrs. Neidemeyer." Adjust, re-adjust, and rotate. "Stop it!"

The older woman was shocked out of her fixation. "Um, um, I'm so sorry."

Michonne placed her hand on her shoulder, opposite of where the shawl laid. "No, I'm sorry. Just, I can't make that an absolute priority at the moment."

"Douglas always told me he'd find a way – which he'd ensure we'd get a pasta maker in a few months." There was genuine worry on her face.

Michonne tried a gentle smile. "Did he tell you that we have to do runs to get whatever we have, and there's no guarantee of what we'll find. There's no more manufacturers out there who will make us one."

"Can we find a way to make one?"

Michonne had a great patient for those who had little malice, not matter the amount of annoyance. She and Carl were the only ones who actually conversed with Father Gabriel instead of threatening him when they found him. She could see good qualities. Mrs. Neidemeyer was good, but Michonne couldn't take it right now. "You know what, I know who you need to speak with. You see that man over there with the mullet?"

"The strange pervert?"

Michonne cleared her throat. "Well, um, I assure you that, well, that's not all he is. He's a genius and has actually made bullets for us. He could probably find a way to make a pasta maker?"

Mrs. Neidemeyer readjusted her scarf, ignoring Michonne's hand that was still on her shoulder. "He's not going to touch me, is he?"

"No," Michonne gritted. "We wouldn't travel with someone who touches others, let alone bring them into this community. Just please, go talk to him."

The nervous woman nervously nodded, and slowly walked away.

"She's a caring person Michonne. She just has some old ways to get through," Jordan suddenly appeared.

Michonne slightly smiled. "That's true. She'll have to get out of it. The old ways get you killed." She turned to look at her, what was he – a friend? "How are you taking all of this?"

He looked down at her, a woman who's shorter stature was completely opposite of her presence. "How am I taking this? It is what it is."

She looked up at him. "Yes. It is. I never thought I'd be in charge of a community. Nowadays, it's not about what I'm ready to do. It's just…be ready."

He couldn't help but admire her more and more. "Speaking of being ready, I really need to tell you something. I am getting a bad feeling from Mr. Thompson and all of the people that used to help Pete and Douglas with their messed up trade."

"Humph," Michonne died. "We kind of expect something to happen with that. Just, I have to ask you this, don't judge us on what has to happen in order for us to survive."

"What does that mean?"

"This isn't the old world anymore, Jordan." Michonne felt it. She turned towards the market's steps where Rick was intently gazed at them. He even cocked his head. She sighed. "Jordan, we'll talk later."

Jordan followed her eyes to see the same intimidating presence. This was…ridiculous. "Right." Before she walked off, he pulled her arm. "I live in the apartment building across from yours, apartment 102." He let go to see her return an intrigued reaction. She wanted to smile.

Michonne didn't rush to Rick. She knew he wasn't going to kill Jordan. The thought was there, though.

"What was that," he inquired before her right foot hit the first step.

"That was a warning. He believes Mr. Thompson and Pete's gang are going to plan something against us." She made her way up, trying to hold his eyes in order to keep him from staring daggers at Jordan.

"No shit. Did you tell him what we plan to do about that?" He finally looked at her.

"You know me better than that, Rick." Michonne could read from his eyes that he actually didn't feel that way.

His jaws clenched. "I'll see you tonight at 8. Carl wants to hang out with you, but I told him it's best to stay in until we're really clear of thangs."

"So you'll have them stay with Abe and Rosita?"

"Of course. They're gonna want to do something to my house, and Glenn &amp; Maggie would be next on the list. Yours is of course on the top of the list of where my kids would be, because, well…" They stared at each other, knowing what was unspoken. "But, we're gonna have to do something with that town hall."

She laughed. "That's true. I'm gonna get some things ready."

"You do that." Michonne turned to walk away. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her as she walked off, but would rather do that after he made her feel it.

-000000000000000000000-

Samantha began to miss her mother. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to acknowledge that the majority of her family was dead. Her mom always offered to take in Ron when the times got hard. Everyone gave up on trying to convince her to leave that abusive bastard, no matter how much money he made. This would be a great time to send Ron off…somewhere…while she got her mind together. Ron needed her most of all right now. She looked in his direction. Her son, who usually was quiet with others but bubbly with her, had not said a peep since finding out that his dad was dead. He just read and kept on reading. Sam wanted to run away, but the only place to run away to was to the mouths of walkers. There was that other community where women were sent off to, though…

Knock, knock.

She slowly got up from the couch that had become a makeshift bed and dragged herself to answer the door. "Who," she simply asked.

"It's me," responded a gruff voice.

She only cracked open the door. "What, just what in the world do you want Rick?"

"I had to check on you."

She laughed.

"Would you rather me talk to you out here, or in there?"

She moved to the side and allowed him in. She didn't offer him a seat. Instead, she stood with her arms crossed.

"Would you rather someone else check on you from time to time?" he probed.

"Yes…why do I need to be checked on?"

Rick's mind circled on the many ways to tell her that many people in her situation become suicidal. "We're checking on everyone in this community."

"Well, I'm fine…considering. I might feel a bit shitty in knowing that my husband not only beat me half to death as a routine, but that I might have loved him like a sadist. Oh, and I sat by, just like everyone else here, and didn't say a damn word as he kidnapped women and terrorized others. So, yea, I'm just dandy. Don't let me forget, I fucked the man who killed him too – shit, I fucked a lot of men on top of that."

"Samantha," he looked over to Ron, who was sitting on the couch but decidedly moved into his room. "Don't be so hard on yourself. No one is perfect."

"No one's Michonne."

Rick swallowed. Was she trying him out? "You, you're not jealous, are you."

Samantha turned away from him. "No, I'm the one who told you that you better not lose her, right?"

"Exactly, so was that a jab or something?"

"It was, I don't know what that was. I might be on the verge of losing my mind. My son is going through enough, and he's about to see his mom lose his mind more than she ever did before." Rick chuckled and pinched his nose. "What's so damn funny?"

"There's nothing funny at all. Just, welcome to the club. I'll have someone else check in on you from time to time."

He headed for the door, only to be interrupted by Sam's pull. "No, you can still check on me."

-0000000000000000-

"Where are you goin?" Daryl asked as his feet relaxed across the coffee table and he sharpened some arrows.

Michonne swiped his feet off. "Carol will gut you if she sees you do that one more time.

Her friend sucked his teeth. "Carol will never. You still ain't answer me."

Michonne mocked, "'You still ain't answer me'. Do I ask you where you're going when you're chasing the latest squirrel?"

He sat up. "Those squirrels give y'all life! 'Chonne, if you're doin' what I think you're doin', you're playin' with fire."

She momentarily blinked rapidly. "Knowing that man, he went over to check on Samantha. There's nothing wrong with that. If the tables were turned, he would hunt Samantha and gut her down. I'm just checking on people to see if everyone's okay."

"So," he stopped looking at her and eyed his arrow. "You know you're playin' with fire."

"He's not the only one who sets fire."

Daryl silently nodded, whistled, and said nothing as she left.

Daylight was still upon them. Some children were returning from class. They'd probably be shocked to find out that their leader Douglas was dead. Some would probably care less because they still had to go to school, despite the threat of walkers and human monsters. Michonne contemplated initiating a defense and weapons training class as she knocked on the door.

Jordan was pleasantly surprised to see her standing there, sans constable uniform. She wore jeans, a purple tank, and a vest. He never saw this look on her before.

"Please, come in," he welcomed.

She nodded and walked in to his barely decorated home.

"Um," he began, "please excuse the, well, the lack of anything in here. My apartment in DC was more my style."

"Oh Jordan, please. What did we talk about with old ways? I'm definitely not who I used to be."

"Is that right?" He beckoned for her to sit on his couch and joined her. She placed her katana on his coffee table. "Who was the old Michonne."

She deeply respired, trying to blank out her family – which really defined her being before the Turn. "Only one person really asked me about that."

"Rick?"

She heaved. "No. Actually, no. Her name was Andrea. She brought me back from the deepest low that I've ever been in."

Jordan slowly nodded. If Andrea was not with them, she must have been dead. "I'm sorry."

Michonne looked up into his hazel eyes. "I was someone like you. I was a professional. Maybe for some time, that defined me. Believe it or not, I always had parties and was involved in some social-something."

He leaned closer. "That doesn't surprise me one bit. You can be stand-offish, but I can tell there's something in you that cares about people."

She scooted over. Her mind flashed to the many walkers and people she killed. "You don't know me Jordan."

"No. You don't know me either. But I know when I am interested in someone." The caramel-toned man's eyes scanned her large eyes and then her lips.

"I'm not available, Jordan."

"But you're here."

"To check in on you."

"That's what you tell yourself." He leaned closer.

Michonne was mirrored his action. Her heart-shaped lips came in closer to his. They touched, until he pressed in closer. His tongue played along her lips, asking to come in. When she allowed it, he wasn't prepared for how ferocious hers was. She couldn't contain the moan that escaped. Jordan recognized that as the go ahead, and dipped down to snake his tongue along her neck while he unzipped her vest. He groped at her breast and kneaded her nipples, all the while moving his plump lips from her mouth, to her neck, to her collar bone. He finally tore off her vest and lifted her tank top.

_Rick's red-handled machete blazed in her head._

She released her mouth from his, jumped up, and grabbed her vest.

"What just happened?" Jordan asked, although he was pretty sure what it was.

Michonne grabbed her katana. "It's just, this is all too soon and way too fast. I have things I have to do."

He stood up to at least open the door for her, but she ran out. He quickly thought of what his evening would be full of. Not much of anything. He grabbed his jacket and tried to catch up.

-0000000000000000000000000-

The bar wasn't as lively as usual. Many people felt few reasons to cheer. They knew society was demolished and that many of their friends or family were either dead or walking corpses. They also knew that Douglas was a monster in his own right. It was okay, though. They could cheer because they were _safe_ and had food to eat with clothes to wear and shelter to hide in. Then Rick Grimes, had to show up.

Mr. Thompson tossed back another shot of whiskey. "Charlene," he slurred while leaning halfway between the bar and the floor. "Charlene, that had to be the hardest shot you ever gave me."

"Sunshine, Charlene already left."

He slowly lifted his head to look up at a woman with short gray hair. There was nothing but contempt in her eyes. "You're not Charlene."

"No shit. Charlene was sent home. Didn't you think it was odd that you were allowed to drink alcohol tonight instead of cranberry juice?"

Charles' face pulled in to exhale a burp. "I thought the bar was nice today, considering."

"Considering what?" Her face leaned in across the bar."

Fear finally set in. "You're one of them?"

"No," Carol clarified. "We were one of _them_ when we came here. But we've been _us_ ever since. Let's just say that we don't go for the bullshit but for too long."

He began to shake and looked around. His weakened friends were being slayed before his very eyes. Sasha, Rosita, Abraham, Daryl, Michonne, and Rick were cutting them down. Some were already laying on the floor, so all that was done to them was a stab to the head. Charles Thompson began to shake.

"You, you poisoned us!"

Carol shrugged her shoulders. That was the last thing he saw. Rick pulled his machete out of the man's head.

"Carol, we don't have time to toy and talk with them. Let's hurry and bury the bodies."

-000000000000000000000000000000-

Jordan hadn't smoked since he was a teenager. The more he learned of the detrimental effects of tobacco and especially nicotine laced with tar, he desired it less and less. Tonight opened up a pull within him that he hadn't felt in so long. He needed a fucking cigarette as he watched Maggie hurridly walk Charlene away from the bar. He needed to feel the poison fill his longs as Glenn and Tara moved patrons out quickly. He knew he might be smoking more once they began dragging out black bags, except for one unconscious individual. That must have been the other Samoan that lived there – Jim. Jordan surmised that they were going to torture information out of him. Michonne did say the old ways were gone, and to not judge them for what they had to do.

He watched her stand out there and wipe her brow. She shook blood off of her katana. She probably wiped her brow out of habit ~ she wasn't tired. With all of that, she still looked so stunningly beautiful to Jordan. Rick walked up to her and placed his hand on her waist. She looked up at him with a smile, and suddenly frowned and walked away.

Yes, Jordan might take on smoking again full-time.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Still don't own anything from The Walking Dead, and thanks for your continued interest!

Chapter 11: Foolish Games

Daryl loved his brother and sister till' death. He knew that in some odd but magical way, they were so in love with each other that eventually they'd commit "incest". He didn't mind. He didn't mind when Rick's semi-annual occurrence of losing his shit occurred when Lori passed away and everyone had to raise Lil Asskicker. He didn't mind how Rick moped around the prison because Michonne was too stubborn to give up her vendetta. He didn't mind how Rick suddenly turned to Michonne as his right hand more than him - he understood and knew these two more than they knew themselves. That was amazing, because they were as corny as the Wonder Twins. They needed to be around each other, maybe more than he needed to be around Carol.

But ever since they arrived to the ASZ, they were trying his patience. They were playing games with each other and others. His dad used to tell him if a meal was in front of you, eat it – don't walk around the table to find something else to eat. That's what these two knuckleheads were doing. What made it frustrating were the sides that they felt they had to be involved with. Both of them seemed like they would have died at the camp near Atlanta. If it was hard for Rick and Michonne to stay focused and sane when away from others, then how did they think other people got when wrapped up in their gravity?

Like this idiot…

Daryl had eyed him trying to hide in the background when they quieted the uprising before it even had a chance. He stood in an alley way a little distance down the street. What balls. What an idiot. Daryl hoped he was only a fool in what he thought was love and not a fool who thought he could try all of them. Then again, he was just a plain ol' fool. Daryl knew Michonne was attractive, but loved life enough (for what it's worth) to not try Rick's hand at winning Michonne over.

"Hey, Jordache."

Jordan dropped his cigarette, stunned that anyone even knew he was there. "Um, uh, Daryl, right?"

He spat at the floor. "Yea jackass. Whutchu' doin' sniffin' over here?"

"Sniffing," his answer was interrupted by sudden hacking. "I just came out for a smoke."

"Yea? When's the last time?"

"Excuse me?"

"When's the last time you had a cig?"

Jordan scratched his head. "Well, you know, they don't come by easily anymore."

Daryl continued to eye him suspiciously as he slowly nodded. "Got a spare?"

"No, not re-"

That's when Daryl invaded his space. "I don't care how much you think you're into her. How much you think she's someone you want to be with. Don't come snoopin' around us like some sick ass, pathetic ass, lovesick dawg."

Jordan backed up. _When did he last take a bath,_he wondered. "Dude, I suggest you not come in my face like that."

"Or what?" Daryl edged forward. "Do you really think she wants to hear that you been stalkin' her?"

Jordan considered that. "I wasn't stalking…"

"Then what the fuck was that, followin' her around and hidin' in shadows like some wannabe serial killer?"

"I just…" He felt weird, but he was about to confide in the last person in the world that he'd want to be trapped on an island with. "I never met someone like her before. I know if I met her before all of this, she'd be someone I would be with. She's amazing, and I just…"

Jordan was so into his thoughts that he did not realize that Daryl relieved him of his cigarette and was relighting it. Daryl grunted with it at the corner of his mouth, "have you met Rick?"

"You know I have."

Daryl exhaled, enjoying the poison as it filled his lungs. "So why do you think this would be a happy endin' for you?"

"I can't talk to you about this."

"You already started to numbnuts."

Jordan realized that the cigarette was no longer in his possession. He could use a pull right now. "He's not thinking about Michonne right now. He hasn't thought about her since he got here. I know he's your friend, but everyone knows about him and Samantha. Why should I care about Rick and Michonne when Rick hasn't cared about her?"

Daryl's jaws clenched. The cordial conversation ended. He tossed the cig to the ground, stomping it out without offering Jordan any of the viable remainder. "You don't know jack shit about those two. You wanna keep playin' cat-n-mouse with her, go 'head. I might wanna fuck you up, but I won't take that away from Rick. By the way, if I ever catch you sneakin' up on any of us, I'll kill you." He left without allowing Jordache the time to offer a rebuttal.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000-

Rick caught up with Michonne. She walked quickly. He was amused by this; he almost always caught up with her. Everyone quickly retreated to their homes after the cleanup for appearances. She was walking towards her apartment, but he needed to talk.

"'Chonne," he grabbed her arm. "We need to talk."

She looked ahead to see Sasha and Carol almost reach their building. Carol looked at them, acknowledging her location before entering.

"Rick…"

"I'm not gonna try to move fast with you or anything like that. I know I kinda' screwed that up. But can you come home?"

"Home?" she scowled.

He smirked. "We had a home. The prison. On the road. When it was just you, me, and the Carl." She tried to look away. "At least give Judith that chance." She smiled, knowing he was trying to be cute. "Don't you think Carl was looking forward to you being there, everyday?"

A knot developed in her throat. "I, I can't," her voice cracked. "Not now, just not now."

She turned to walk, but his hand still had a hold of her arm. "I'll wait, however long it takes, instead of bein' impatient like before."

Michonne slowly nodded and walked away. She wiped tears while remembering Jordan's hands crawling up her top. That was too easy. She knew she could easily have a life with Jordan – a quiet one that could somehow exist in their world. There would be no bouts of crazy, no unpredictable actions… She seriously thought that they would pick up and grow something once they got somewhere safe. Instead, he bedded another woman. She tried to understand where he was coming from, but she didn't do that to him.

It still didn't mean Carl should suffer because of it.

It didn't mean that she couldn't help but to love and want Rick.

Why did she feel like a married couple going through separation?

-0000000000000000000000000000-

"He tried to get you to move in with him, didn't he," Carol asked as she baked a casserole.

Sometimes, it was too uncanny how Carol just knew things. Michonne silently sat on the couch and placed her katana on the coffee table.

Sasha cleared her throat, "you don't know what you're gonna do, are you?"

Michonne sighed. "I don't, but I miss the kids and they miss me."

"That woman has no pull on him," Carol observed.

"I know that. He's made it pretty clear."

Sasha and Carol shared a glance. "No one's telling you to just forget and forgive right now, but when will you," Sasha queried.

Michonne's head swam. She chuckled, "it's not that simple. It's-"

Daryl marched in. He stared intently at Michonne, and then nodded to the other two. All of them looked curiously at him, except Carol. He stormed off to his room.

Sasha remarked, "what's up with him?"

Carol sighed, "I think he noticed your boyfriend stalking us."

Michonne shook her head, "no, Jordan wouldn't do that."

The gray-haired woman's sigh was even deeper this time. "I saw Daryl walk up to him in an alleyway."

Michonne threw her feet up on the coffee table, too pissed to care if anyone didn't like it. "This shit is getting dumb. This shit is getting to be taxing and annoying!"

Sasha placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Michonne, what are you doing to make all of these men go crazy? I want to know, but I don't want _that_ much attention. Have you been using some whip-appeal?"

"Whip-appeal?! You know what, I haven't even had sex in 2 years! I don't even know what I'm doing to cause all of this, but imagine if I did have sex!"

They all roared in laughter. When the last of her amusement left her mouth, Michonne considered how serious this all really was. It wasn't much to laugh about.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000000-

People didn't come into the municipal building for much of help. It was probably better that way. Daryl and Abe were busy torturing interrogating Jim. The screams confessions would probably be too much for everyone to hear. Rick, Michonne, Maggie, and Glenn were busy with planning, figuring out how to increase security, and visiting some of the townspeople to gage more of their needs. Michonne spent a lot of time trying to avoid Mrs. Neidemeyer and her pasta maker questions.

She decided to begin the end of her day on a good note. She found him pushing a stroller, being the overprotective brother that he was so good at. She snuck up behind him, tapped his left shoulder, and jolted to his right.

"Michonne, seriously, I know that's you," Carl deadpanned.

They spent a wonderful time playing cards, tickling Judith, talking about girls, and just plain 'ol catching up. It was as if she never left. Why did she think it was okay to not be there in the first place? This house, which she never stayed in, was her home. The people who lived in there were her family. She looked upon Carl's and Judith's faces, wondering how she could deprive them of her and her of them.

Carl was about to head out for a loaf of bread, but Michonne volunteered. Thoughts of spending the night floated through her head, but of course, she just couldn't have nice things. As she approached the market's entrance, she noticed Rick hugging Samantha at her front door. They seemed happy with each other. _So, that's where he's been while I was hanging out with the kids,_ she thought to herself. Rick must have felt her presence. He ran up to her before she could attempt to walk off unnoticed.

"Michonne." She continued to walk. He was beginning to notice this was becoming a habit. "Michonne! Don't walk away from me."

She turned around. "Y'all are out of bread. I stopped by your house. You should get some bread."

She stalked off, hearing him plead, "it's not what you think it is…"

-00000000000000000000000000000-

Jordan was beginning to consider if he was indeed a stalker. Following a woman like he did the night more…no, he never did that before. He was starting to think that maybe he should just keep his distance from her. She wasn't the only person who was dangerous. His thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Me."

He opened to see Michonne, not looking as self-assured as she usually did.

"What brings you here," he asked.

She shut the door behind her. "Just shut up." She pressed her lips on him, forcing him to fall into his couch.

**_-AN: _**_Please don't shoot me, lol__**-**_


	12. Chapter 12

**_AN:_**_ I don't own a damn thing from The Walking Dead. Every time I type that, it hurts. _

_I think responded to everyone's reviews via PM that I could. If I don't respond to you here or haven't the other way, then my deepest apologies. I adore everyone's interest in this story and my other fics!_

**_renata:_**_ Your review had me smiling from ear to ear! I had to tell my oldest daughter about it, since she understands how it feels to have anyone interested in her work (she thinks making custom content for the Sims 4 game is molto importante). I'm so happy that anyone outside of the US is interested in this story! Will Michonne get what Rick's been getting, sex with someone else? Well, I guess we'll find out!_

**_Guest (1):_**_ Eh, I'm not gonna exactly say that Rick and Samantha did the dirty deed again. He did tell her he would check up on her in Chapter 10 because she was having a major meltdown. _

**_Guest (2):_**_ LOL people were so against the possibility of Jordan &amp; Michonne hooking up earlier in this story, but I guess Rick's actions easily changed that. Someone buy that man a clue._

**_Guest (3): _**_Okay, I take back what I just said to Guest (2). Not everyone is up for a Michonne and Jordan hook-up…and some think Michonne responded recklessly to the situation. Ummmm…so, yea, there's that. _

**_CodeName-m.e.:_**_ And….apparently you represent the people who have had enough of everyone except Coral and Sasha in the latest chapter (BTW most people loved Daryl in this one, but Code believes he needs a shower – I agree). Not everyone is super happy with ultra-intuitive Carol. I am not the best Carol writer, because I'm confused quite often of how to write her. She is an enigma within an enigma. Glad that Sasha and Coral didn't piss you off, but you left out Judith! She is the ultimate most intimate of the bunch!_

**_Guest (4):_**_ Okay, you hit the nail on the head. Rick wasn't sleeping with Samantha again. But he did mess up by hugging her, in public view, where the woman he loves and already messed up with could see him. And he was so wrong for using her for sex! Reading your review made me realize even more that Samantha is even more wrecked than she was pre-Rick Grimes. What could he do to seem like a "catch" to anyone? _

· **_MAJOR Author News:_**_ Ummm, I've been making you people wait so long on updates. My sincerest apologies! My fics will be updated at least once a month, due to work-kids-school-life. My God, some people want to know if FocusedOnProsperity is still breathing in real life, so uh, yea…until the summer months are over, it's going to be 1x month updates. I love y'all (I hope Fear of the Walking Dead will be worth the watch!)!_

**Chapter 12: Wrong Head**

Each crescendo was met with a crashing downfall. She couldn't help but gasp as he held onto her hips to push himself in deeper. He matched her rhythm a little too perfectly. It was damn near scary. She was cumming so often… She couldn't help but to loudly gasp as his tip banged into her. His hazel eyes bore into her, his tongue licked his lips, and he held tightly on to the back of her head as the pounding continued. There was no denying that he was very much into this, but wasn't that the point? Michonne had a worry creep in the back of her head that he was falling for her. She couldn't think about that right now, just like she didn't need to think about Rick. This felt so damn good…

An hour later, she left his shower and quickly put on her clothes. Jordan stared at her as he leaned on the doorframe. "You're beyond beautiful," he quietly remarked.

Michonne slipped her tank on and looked at back at him. He was only wearing a pair of blue pajama pants. He was too comfortable in her presence. She didn't know if this was regret, nervousness, or fear that was creeping up on her. She avoided his eyes as she pulled her pants up. "You're not bad yourself," she replied.

Jordan crossed his arms and furrowed his eyes. "Michonne, I'm sorry. If you weren't ready…"

"I'm no baby. I'm no little girl. I'm the one who seduced you, don't you remember?"

He nodded his head slowly, recalling how she kissed him the second the door closed. "It wasn't that hard for you to seduce me. You can have me, morning, day, night, the crack of dawn…"

Michonne chuckled.

He cleared his throat. "Michonne, I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not."

"Right. I know that what just happened doesn't mean that you and me are gonna run off into the sunset. I know that Rick would probably try to kill me if he ever found out you and I were intimate." Michonne grimaced. "I want you to know that I don't give a shit."

"You what?"

"I don't give a shit. There's not much to live for in today's world. I mean, my family, everyone I've ever known, any dream I've ever had; they're all gone. I haven't allowed myself to really live again until I met you. You just came around, and didn't think I'd have the chance to _be _with you, but I wanted it. Whatever is going on with me and you might pale in comparison to whatever in the world has happened with you and him. But I know you came here for a reason. I know he could have had you, and I'd be nothing but another person in this town to you. But he did something to mess this all up – I wouldn't do that to risk your happiness."

Michonne timidly smiled, which was odd, since she was far from timid. "What romance novel did you read that from?"

He chuckled, "I don't know. I guess, maybe the _Idiots Guide to Romance_?" They both laughed. "Seriously Michonne. I know I can't protect you how most men would want to. You probably can kick my ass. But I'll never do anything to hurt you."

_Shit, you already are and don't even know it_, she thought to herself. Then again, she was sure that Jordan was so smart that he probably already picked up on that. A smart idiot for feelings. "No one, and I mean no one, is worth getting killed over." He didn't flinch at her words. "I'm serious Jordan." She horridly walked past him to grab her katana that she discarded to the floor earlier in the midst of passion. "I shouldn't have done this Jordan. I know better, and you're a great guy. But I never was a fan of anyone fighting over a woman. It might be the end of the world, but your life is still living." Michonne thought of how she didn't know what kind of horrors he had seen, but how long it took for her to believe that after the deaths of Andre and Mike. Shit, it was Andrea, Hershel, and especially _Rick_ and Carl that helped her believe that. Fucking Rick…

"You don't belong to him Michonne."

"I don't."

His voice almost croaked, "will this, will this ever happen again?"

Michonne grasped the door handle to the outside. She always knew what she was doing. "I, I don't know." She left before he could give a rebuttal to her indecisiveness.

-000000000000000000000000000-

Carl's words continued. There was something about some girl named Enid. Then another about Mrs. Neidelmeyer was upset. Something about Enid storming off…

"You're not even listening," Carl finally observed.

"Yes I am," defended Rick. "You said that there's some girl named Enid that pissed off Mrs. Neidelmeyer."

"No, I said Mrs. Neidelmeyer was teaching math class, but she stopped to go on and on about wanting a pasta maker. She told us to ask anyone who goes on runs to be on the lookout for one. That's when Enid stood up and told her she was a flipping idiot."

Rick looked perplexed. "That's what you said?"

"Yes! I said it at least twice!" Carl pinched his nose. "Oh my God, I need to talk to someone who listens… Is Michonne coming back?"

That's exactly who Rick's mind was fixated on. He didn't know how to tell his son that it was his fault that she didn't return back from the store. He didn't have a habit of lying to him, but he didn't always have to tell him the whole truth, either. "She is taking a while coming back, huh?"

"Yea, I thought she'd be right back. You think she's all right?" Carl began to shift, rising from the couch.

Rick stood up faster. "Son, you're just about a man, but I'll go out there and check up on her. It's probably nothing. Just stay here with Judith."

Carl squinted his eyes. "Dad, did you piss her off? She was so happy, didn't even seem to care about you bringing over Samantha for once."

Rick's jaws clenched. His son was wise but he spoke beyond his place a bit too often. "That's frankly none of your business. Stay here with Judith. That's final." He left before he could hear Carl's rebuttal, which he was sure would make him regret never spanking him as his parents used to do with him.

There was something in the night air that didn't feel right. It could have been the paradigm shift from the rapid takeover that he and Michonne orchestrated. It could have been the mini-massacre that they carried out earlier. Rick was getting more and more comfortable with doing anything that he deemed worth doing. Killing Pete and Douglass only affected him when he saw Samantha's depressed composure. Everything was moving fast, and he knew he needed to prepare for the next danger, the next threat. They lived on the edge of breathing while out there. This was just a façade. Douglass made deals with some devious people out there in order to keep this façade going. Rick knew he'd likely kill them than to discuss thangs. Even if the interrogations weren't working, he was sure that his new enemies would reveal themselves soon enough.

That wasn't the strange feeling he was getting. It was something else, something sharper. It was more painful than unsettling, whatever it was. Michonne did see him hug Samantha earlier, and she really try to hear him out. He felt the urge to walk faster. The pace picked up to running.

-0000000000000000000000000000000-

Sasha opened the door to a heavily breathing Rick.

"Hey Rick, what's going on?" He quickly moved past her. "Okay, well come on in then. What's wrong? Is there a security breach or…?"

Rick scanned the living room, momentarily puzzled to see the local Spencer sitting at the kitchen's bar. "What's going on in here?"

"Spencer is here, um telling me about…"

Spencer interrupted, "telling her about other communities that are nearby. There's the Hilltop, the Kingdom, and…"

"So you came here to tell Sasha, but not me or Michonne…where's Michonne?"

Sasha was beginning to pick up on his frantic mood. She swallowed. "Did something happen? Is she in trouble?"

Rick looked around the room. He was causing panic over what was perhaps nothing. Then again, Sasha and he didn't know where she was. "Do you know where she is?" Rick tried to contain his anxiety, but he was pacing the living room.

"I thought she was hanging with Carl and Judith." Sasha felt for her gun on her belt for comfort. If anyone like Michonne was in danger, then that was a huge problem. "Do we need to look for her?"

She was with his son and daughter, while he was busy checking in on Samantha. He ruined it. He was taking too long to answer, which Sasha wordlessly responded by grabbing her gun. She forgot that she put it on the table in the midst of a deep conversation with Spencer. She didn't expect anyone to be there that night. As far as she knew, Michonne was opening up to the Grimes again, and Carol and Daryl were out on patrol.

Rick saw her movements, and how it started to alert Spencer who seemed pretty calm beforehand. "Stop," she uttered. "Just, sigh, just stop." The other two gave him perplexed expressions. "She's probably fine. I just…"

The doorknob turned. Michonne walked in. The moment he saw her, he knew there was something different. Her constant frowns were relaxing more throughout the many months that they knew each other. This time, however, it seemed like something happened to iron the creases out. She seemed a little tense, but not on guard as she always had. If he didn't know any better, she could have gone to the spa for all he knew. She also appeared a little more tired than how she seemed a few hours ago when he bumped into her as he stepped outside of Samantha's house.

The minute aura of bliss dissipated once she noticed Rick.

"Rick," she questioned. Her voice was a mixture of confusion and irritation. "What, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, Michonne."

Michonne closed the door. "What do you want?"

"The kids thought you were coming back. I, uh, didn't know you were spending time with them." He nervously scratched his brow and looked at the ceiling for what to say. "We need to talk."

Sasha and Spencer eyed each other. "Spencer, let's give them some space. You wanted to show me something about one of the walls?"

"Right, the one that my father said would probably be a problem eventually? Let's go," he quickly grabbed his jacket.

Michonne smirked. She knew Sasha was very standoffish to most of the Alexandrians, but she felt some comradery with Spencer. It was probably because they both had just recently lost more than one person close to them.

She still didn't want to have this conversation alone with Rick.

"Before you two run off, can you tell us more about where this wall is," she asked.

Sasha gave her a momentary death stare, but cooled her looks. They were like sisters and had a tight bond. She still learned a while ago that Michonne would either patiently wait &amp; ignore her aggressiveness, or actually match it. This wasn't the time. She also knew Rick was probably in one of his crazy modes by the way he just stirred up her and Spencer. If anyone could calm him down, it was Michonne. Yet, Michonne was probably the reason he was crazy at this moment. Sasha didn't want Spencer to see Rick in that mindset, when she knew that the man who was ultimately in charge of the place – Rick – wasn't as bad as he sometimes seemed.

Sasha contemplated all of this. Finally, she said, "Spencer, let's just continue the conversation in my room."

Spencer looked as if he was transported back to high school and was moving to third base sooner than expected. She shot him a look that told him that wasn't happening, but he gladly obliged nonetheless.

It was just Michonne and Rick, with the still air of the living room, alone with anger and remorse.

"Michonne," Rick began. "Me being at Samantha's…it's not what you think." He walked up close to her as her back hugged the wall. She tried to avoid looking into his blue irises that were surrounded by the redness of his eyes. "I, I was just checkin' up on her. She seemed like she was ready to kill herself." He softly tilted her chin to look at him, but she only looked further away. "Are you gonna look at me? I don't know what I'd do if I lost your trust, if I lost you…even as a friend. Michonne, you keep me centered." He took her hand to press it to his chest, to which she yanked back. She wiggled herself from the little box he trapped her in, and stormed off to the kitchen to grab some much needed water. He quickly followed. Her hands were shaky as she poured herself some. "Are you gonna say anything? Do you hate me? Where do we stand? I promise, I'll send someone else to check up on her."

She gulped 8 ounces quickly. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow a cheater, but that didn't make sense. It irritated her. She was a woman that lived on the principals of practicality and rationality. This was all dumb soap opera crap. Like most melodramas, Rick would likely go and try…no…go and _kill_ Jordan over a woman that wasn't his in the first place. She knew better than this. He just didn't need to know.

"I don't hate you," she finally exasperated as she rubbed her temples. "I don't know, sometimes I do. You want me to be the mother to your kids. You want me to have your back at all times. You want me to be your best friend. You want me to be everything a woman would be to her man, but once we got here, you never told me you loved me until someone else noticed me. You go ahead and fuck someone else, pretend that you're gonna make it right, but go ahead and see _her!_ Shit!" Michonne was further aggravated with the tear that began to drop.

He felt like crap to see her feeling this way because of him. His tears streamed down as well. "I never wanted to be the reason you cry."

"Get over yourself. It's one tear." She pushed him away as he tried to hug her. "If I did what you did, what would you do?"

"Excuse me?" His right temple pulsated. "If you did what?"

"If I _fucked_ someone else, what would you do?"

Rick bit his lip and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His head cocked to the side. "I don't think…that's just not like you Michonne. You just wouldn't randomly let some guy do that to you."

"Is that right," her eyebrows furrowed. She walked up to him, staring down his taller stature. "I didn't think you'd be like that either. What _do_ you know about me Rick?"

He answered through a clenched mouth, "everything that I need to know. I know that you love me as much as I do, and that's why it hurt you. I know you wouldn't just have sex with someone to get revenge, because you're better than that. " He stared her down similarly to the way he stared down Tomas. He knew he would never hurt her, but his mind couldn't control what would happen to someone else.

"So, you can have your bouts of instability, bouts of crazy? Times where you do things that don't make sense? But I can't?" She didn't back down easily from him.

He wiped sweat off his brow. "What are you getting at Michonne? If you had sex with that man after I told you how I'd patiently wait for you, how no matter what…"

"No matter what? If I was intimate with someone else, you'd probably kill them!"

He swallowed.

"From what you told me, you didn't kill Shane until you felt threatened, until you knew he would kill you. I'm not your wife. I'm not even your girlfriend. What is it about me that would make that even an option?"

His right hand tapped his machete. "Did you fuck him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you-"

"Answer my question dammit! Who am I to you? Why do you even fucking care?"

Rick began to feel weak. "I love you. I love you even more than I loved Lori. Labels don't mean shit anymore Michonne, but you are the woman I'd want to be my wife."

Michonne's face softened. "I didn't have sex with anyone. I…I just needed a walk."

Rick's eyes changed from fury to warmth. "I knew you wouldn't," he whispered. "Why did you test me?" He moved closer to here and placed his hand on her cheek. She momentarily cherished it by holding onto his affection. Then she pulled away. "Michonne, we can't keep doing this to each other."

She turned her back to him. "I need some space. I need some time."

He walked up to her and grabbed her bare shoulders. He kissed them and assured, "I said it before and I'll say it again. Take all of the time that you need. I'm not going anywhere. I love you Michonne." He hugged her from the back and kissed her on the neck. She shuddered. What would he do if he knew how she truly spent her energy not too long ago?

Rick resisted the urge to take her right then and there. He did tell her he'd give her time. He made his way out of the kitchen and to the front door until he remembered something. "Carl was expecting you to come back."

She tried to contain some of her sniffles when she responded, "tell him I'm sick and I'll be there tomorrow."

Rick paused. "Okay," and left.

Michonne used the faucet to rinse her face from the sobbing that quickly came after Rick left. Her whole mood changed once the water ran brown. It was unfortunate that Spencer's parents died shortly before their arrival. His dad could probably do something about the deteriorating system.

"Michonne," Sasha interrupted her thoughts as she placed her hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yes. Where's your company?"

"Still in my room. I had to check up on you. Is everything okay between you two?"

"Um, yea, it's fine."

Sasha nodded slowly. She took her time in saying this. "You two were loud enough for us to hear. It's none of my business, but you know Rick's gonna kill that man if he finds out."

Michonne deeply sighed, "That's all I've been thinking."

**_-Gee whiz, what a hot mess!-_**


End file.
